


Quarter-life Crisis

by far_from7



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Angst, Canon Compliant, Closeted Chloe, Coming out is not easy, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/F, PP3 fix it, Slow Burn, closeted Beca
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far_from7/pseuds/far_from7
Summary: During the afterparty at worlds, something happens. Something happens that turns Beca's world upside down. She wasn't ready. She wasn't prepared. And she definitely didn't think that she would be entering the world as a college graduate without her best friend in her life.orThat super ambitious PP3 fix-it fic that everyone is looking for





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ok guys. By now, I'm sure all of you have seen PP3. I don't know about you, but things seemed a little tense between our two favorite leading ladies. This is me taking liberties with the events between PP2 and PP3, and what really was going on behind the scenes during the USO tour. I'm going to try and stick to canon as much as possible (honestly, it's not that hard), but we're not going to get there for a while. Super big shout out to [Morningsound15](http://archiveofourown.org/users/morningsound15/pseuds/morningsound15) for all the help and suggestions editing and beta'ing this project. If you haven't already, read her story [Perdition](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10242218). It's arguably one of the best Bechloe works out there right now. 
> 
> I will do my best to reply to all comments and questions. Feel free to search me out on my [tumblr](https://farfrom7.tumblr.com/)

Looking back, Beca could say that the one thing the Bellas were really good at, like, they-should-put-it-on-the-brochure good, was teaching her new things about herself. It’s not something she had thought she particularly needed help with, that day she went aimlessly wandering through the activities fair in an effort to get her father off her back. But if she’s being completely honest, in hindsight, she’s equal parts grateful and resentful of a lot of the things she learned.

More on that later.

The point is, she had really thought she had a firm grasp on who she was, what she wanted, and the role other people were going to play in her life.

She was Beca. She wanted to be a music producer. She didn’t need other people. And ok, yeah. Maybe only one of those things drastically changed over the course of her college career, but it was a big enough change where it kind of completely altered the whole course of her life in a way she never could have possibly predicted.

Ever. In a million years.

Times infinity.

Take right after graduation, for instance. If you had asked her Freshman self as she lugged her bags out of a taxi, full of bad attitude and enough eyeliner to make an Egyptian noble proud, if she ever thought she’d sing in an international a cappella competition and win? She probably wouldn’t even have laughed. She probably would have just rolled her eyes and walked away. Now if you had asked her if she thought she’d ever sing in an international a cappella competition and win, and be excited about it? That may have gotten you a laugh. If you had asked her if she thought she would ever sing in an international a cappella competition and win, and be excited about it, and be partying after with the fucking weirdest combination of girls (probably) on the planet, in Copenhagen, drinking vodka directly out of a bottle, playing games like “truth or dare” and “never have I ever”? She’d have… She’s actually not sure what she would have done. That’s a lot of shit you’d have to have been able to predict.

Her point is holy shit did she learn a lot about herself over her 4 years at Barden. Because she did sing in an international a cappella competition. And they did win. And she was fucking stoked about it. And the shit Fat Amy was coming up with in this stupid game of “never have I ever” would have made it difficult for anyone to really get drunk, because who the fuck had ever “boxed a wallaby while wearing a banana hammock”? (She’d call bullshit, but she learned in her sophomore year to never ever question Fat Amy’s stories.) So the rules were really more like ‘guidelines’, and everyone was definitely drinking a lot.

“Never have I ever done the dirty in a stranger’s car,” Stacie sung out, before proudly taking a sip out of her own bottle of wine.

“Stacie, you’re not playing it right. None of you are. You’re not supposed to say stuff you’ve actually done!”

(Well, so… everyone was drinking a lot except Aubrey.)

Beca snorted into her solo cup as she took another sip, earning a playful elbow to the ribs from Chloe where she was cuddled up next to her. Oh, and that’s another thing she never would have guessed about herself. She actually really really liked having friends. And she really really liked having a best friend. She knew the other girls would probably be super hurt if she ever said it out loud (even though she knew it was fairly obvious), but while she loved them all, Chloe was… well…

Chloe was Chloe.

She was honestly the only reason she had toughed it out in the group for the full four years. Because if she was being honest, she had thought about quitting the Bellas a couple times; when finals AND captaining the team AND making all the arrangements AND helping with all the choreography AND going to and leading all the practises AND preparing for all the competitions seemed like way too much to have on any one person’s plate. You couldn’t really blame her for thinking about it. Just thinking, though; she would never actually quit. Because even hedging that she was even thinking about quitting was enough to bring tears to impossibly blue eyes, and she never EVER wanted to go through that again. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth making Chloe look that sad and devastated.

So here she was. In Copenhagen. Feeling drunker than she had probably been all year. And she was kinda sorta loving it.

“Legacy. Your turn,” Beca called out, making the poor Freshman jump.

“I don’t… I don’t think I’d be very good at this,” Emily stuttered out, shifting on her feet.

“It should be easy for you, Legacy. It’s obvious you haven’t done anything remotely exciting,” Fat Amy said, her words slurring and her cup sloshing over as she gestured towards the younger girl.

Cynthia Rose whooped loudly. “Yeah, step up, buttercup,” she laughed.

“Um… OK.” Emily gulped, her eyes darting between the collection of drunken Bellas nervously. “Uh… Never have I ever... kissed another girl?”

The room erupted in a combination of cheers and boos (“She really is the most boring human alive”). Poor Emily turned a startling shade of magenta, and Beca spared a moment to shoot her a comforting look before turning to Chloe with raised brows. Chloe saw the loaded look in Beca’s eye and blushed prettily before smacking her shoulder with the back of her hand.

Taking stock of the room, CR, Stacie, Jessica, Ashley and Fat Amy all drank. The only big surprise there, at least as far as Beca was concerned, was Fat Amy. (And by ‘surprise,’ she meant ‘pretty nauseating image,’ but whatever. She beat the image down with another gulp from her red solo cup, grimacing a little at Fat Amy’s truly deadly ratio of alcohol to mixer.)

Emily (duh), Beca, Chloe, Aubrey (double duh) and Flo did not drink.

(“In my county, they have a special prison for girls who kiss other girls,” Flo said, with a startling lack of recognition that that was kind of supremely fucked up.)

(Seriously. Where was she even from? North Korea?)

Lily, who either didn’t understand the game or, more likely, didn’t care about the rules (as much as any of them were actually following them), had been drinking pretty much the whole time, so no one really knew what it meant when she took a pull straight out of the bottle of Limoncello cradled in her arm.

(No one really knew what she said either, the Bellas all long-used to seeing the strange girl’s lips twist and twitch, adding another — probably terrifying — statement into the ether.)

(It was probably for the best.)

“Seriously, Red?” Stacie said with raised brows, her head tilted in Chloe’s direction. “I’m surprised.”

“I think Short Stack is the shocker here. We all saw the tongue-tied mess she turned into around her dear Kommissar.”

Beca sputtered indignantly. “Hey!”

But Chloe just blushed and shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno,” she mumbled, more to herself than to Stacie. “Just never happened”

“Not by choice though”, Beca murmured with a sly grin.

Now it was Chloe’s turn to be indignant. “Beca!” She hissed, smacking her shoulder again (a lot harder than before).

“What was that?” Cynthia Rose asked, leaning forward with a sort of enthusiastic glee, like she knew she was about to be gifted some kind of juicy gossip.

“Beca…” Chloe warned quietly, but Beca, of course, ignored her.

“Oh nothing,” she said, smirk ever-present on her lips. “Just a little conversation we had.”

Chloe hissed in a low voice, her expression murderous, “Beca, I swear to god—”

“Something about wishing she had done a little more ‘experimenting’ in college. Wasn’t that it Chlo?”

The room roared to life, too many voices speaking and laughing at once for Beca to understand any single person. Chloe was flushed from her hairline all the way down to her chest by now, and she buried her face in her hands, reaching over and punching Beca’s shoulder when Beca chimed in on the laughter. Ok. But for real. She was going to bruise.

“When did this even happen?” Aubrey (by far the most serious person Beca had probably ever met) asked.

Beca shrugged. “At the retreat.”

“Beca,” Chloe groaned, face still buried in her hands. “Please shut up.”

Aubrey frowned, the lines in her forehead deepening with her disapproving expression. “Let me get this straight,” she said in a huff, arms crossed over her chest. “You were all supposed to be engaged in strict team bonding activities, but instead you two decided to sneak off and talk about how you guys wanted to fool around?”

“Woah now,” Beca said, hands up defensively. “No one said anything about wanting to fool around.”

“You know girl,” Cynthia Rose drawled with a suggestive wiggle of her brows, “all you had to do was ask.”

Chloe looked truly mortified by now, and Beca actually was starting to feel kinda bad, so she took pity on her and chucked the nearest pillow in Cynthia Rose’s direction. “Down girl!” The pillow smacked her directly in the face and she toppled over backwards in a fit of giddy laughter.

“Honestly, Red. You ever decide you wanna go through with it, you just let me know,” Stacie purred with a suggestive wink.

The girls continued with their teasing, almost unusually relentless, and Chloe shrunk in on herself more and more with every tease and barb.

Beca began to realize that she may have made a slight miscalculation in terms of this whole situation. Teasing Chloe was one thing — usually she was a great sport about it, and she could give as good as she got — but teasing Chloe about this particular thing… well. It didn’t really seem like a bunch of innocent fun anymore. Not with the way Chloe’s shoulders seemed to collapse downward with every misplaced come-on by either Stacie or Cynthia Rose. Not with the way Aubrey was looking down her nose at Beca, clearly unhappy with this turn of events.

“Hey, come on, guys,” Beca said with a half-hearted laugh, trying to cut through the cacophony of laughter. But no one seemed to be paying attention to her. She tried one more time: “Guys, come on, why don’t we just chill…” But she was just as unsuccessful the second time as the first. It seemed the revelation of Chloe’s desire for same-sex experimentation was too jucy a story not to milk for all it was worth.

But it was the look on Chloe’s face that made the tendrils of unease creep into her stomach. Chloe was upset. Or rather, she was fighting pretty hard to not be upset, and losing the battle rather spectacularly. (And Beca would do anything to stop Chloe from being upset.)

An idea struck her, sort of all at once, sort of without prompting. She wasn’t really sure where it came from, but she was pretty sure it probably had something to do with the 6 shots of vodka she’d consumed over the past hour and a half (Thanks, Amy), but still.

It was an idea that probably didn’t make a lot of sense, not if she  _ really _ sat down and thought about it. But Beca wasn’t thinking. She only knew exactly two things in that moment: 

 

  1. She hated the look on Chloe’s face (and knowing it was _mostly_ her fault Chloe was getting all this shit in the first place definitely didn’t help), and 
  2. There was one way to get the Bellas off _anyone’s_ back that worked EVERY time, and that was to give them a better target. 



 

So Beca set her cup down, sat up, reached over and cupped Chloe’s cheek, and pulled her down until their lips met.

(It wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. All in all, she’d have to admit that it was pretty much not-thought-out in the slightest. But whatever. 6 shots of vodka were telling her that it was a really great plan and would definitely, totally work out the way she wanted it to.)

The kiss surprised Chloe. That much was obvious. She was stiff, her eyes frozen wide open, and she didn’t really do anything other than just sit there, even when Beca pulled first on her upper lip then the bottom, biting down and tugging as she slowly backed away, tentatively brushing it with her tongue. She tasted — no shit — like cherry chapstick and vodka. As soon as that thought registered in her brain, she snorted a laugh into Chloe’s mouth.

The girls had gone silent for maybe a microsecond before erupting in a deafening roar of jeers and catcalls.

“Pay up, pitches!” Cynthia Rose called out gleefully.

“Damn, Beca. You gots moves!”

“You can’t just go around kissing people, Beca!”

“In my country-”

“Shut up, Flo”

Chloe, however, was silent. Beca tried to catch her eye, tried to communicate that she was kinda sorry for how this whole thing played out, tried to ask her without words whether or not she was okay, whether or not that kiss had been entirely out of line, whether Chloe’s heart was racing as fast as her own…

But Chloe kept her eyes downcast, a blush still marring her cheeks. Beca studied her face for a few seconds, trying to gauge if she should be worried. She placed a tentative hand discreetly on Chloe’s elbow, but Chloe jumped at the contact, lifting her gaze with a shaky smile, immediately raising her cup to her lips and downing the remainder of its contents.

For whatever it was worth, the kiss worked as a distraction. The teasing jeers the other Bellas had been tossing Chloe’s way dipped to almost nothing, leaving Beca in the spotlight. And with so few eyes upon her, Chloe’s demeanor slowly but steadily improved. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders; her chin tilted up; giddy laughs once again spilled from her lips.

Beca didn’t really care about anything else. She took the teasing, took the taunts, rolled her eyes and let the other girls jostle her around and make fun of her. She didn’t care. Chloe was smiling and laughing again, and that’s all that really mattered.

 

* * *

 

  
By the time everyone was staggering their way back to their own rooms, Beca was well and truly smashed. And judging by the way Chloe was leaning heavily on her shoulder, she wasn’t faring much better. Chloe stumbled her way through four weak attempts at trying and failing to get her key card in the lock before Beca rolled her eyes and took over. (It took her six, but whatever. She got it to work eventually.)

When she finally managed to wrench the door open, Beca tripped unceremoniously into the room, kicking her shoes off and unbuttoning her jeans as she went. She shrugged her vest off and was trying to pull her white tee over her head when her knees hit the edge of the bed and she went tumbling down.

It took her a couple of seconds of fighting with her elbows twisted and trapped in stretchy fabric before her shoulders started to ache. She paused and laughed at herself, at the ridiculous situation she found herself in — stuck insider her own t-shirt, too drunk and careless and uncoordinated to get herself out. Just as she was starting to think that this was her life now, and she might actually be stuck in a twisted knot of cotton and limbs for at least the rest of the night, she felt the bed dip and heard a quiet laugh at her side. Soft hands gently pulled and tugged at the offending garment until it finally cleared her head.

The sight that met her almost took her breath away. Chloe’s hair was mussed, lips curved in a soft smile, her cheeks flushed red with the effects of a night of heavy drinking, eyes bright and open in the dimly lit room in a gaze that was so soft and reverent it made Beca’s chest ache. They stayed like that, frozen in this one moment for what felt like an eternity. Chloe with her arms bracketing Beca’s torso, her legs warm against the bare skin of Beca’s thigh, and Beca with her t-shirt dangling around her wrists, her heart in her throat.

The tension was nearing unbearable levels when a sudden wave of vertigo hit, and Beca had to close her eyes against the lurch.

“Thanks.” Beca croaked.

This seemed to break whatever spell they had fallen under, and Beca was unpleasantly jostled as Chloe turned and flopped onto her back. “Don’t mention it,” she said quietly, shoulder-to-shoulder with Beca in the cramped space.

For a moment they just lay there. But then her vertigo hit again and the room started to spin, just a bit, and Beca had to slide her leg off the bed to place her foot flat on the floor. It helped a little, thankfully, and she didn’t feel quite so much like the bed was trying to heave her off, but it didn’t do much. She was truly and completely drunk and was already starting to feel the alluring pull of sleep that was pushing at the recesses of her mind.

“Why did you laugh?” Chloe asked suddenly, her voice breaking through the quiet of the room. Beca started at the unexpected noise, pulling herself out of the half-asleep daze into which she was swiftly slipping.

“Hmmm?” She asked, her voice sounding as fuzzy as her vision appeared.

“When you kissed me,” Chloe clarified softly, seemingly finding courage in the darkness. “Why did you laugh?”

“Oh. Um…” Beca shook her head, her earlier laughter feeling like a stark overreaction to an otherwise fairly normal occasion (as much as kissing your best friend in front of a large group of your other best friends can be considered normal). She shrugged. “You wear cherry chapstick, dude.”

It took Chloe a second before the light bulb went off and she snorted out a laugh. “So…” She said with a chuckle, “Does that mean you kissed me and you liked it?”

Beca breathed out an airy sigh. “Mmmm. You know what they say about cherry chapstick.”

Chloe laughed again before rolling onto her side, pressing herself flush against Beca’s mostly bare body and tucked her head in her arm, looking up with a gleam in her eyes Beca had never seen before.

“Did you kiss me just to try it?” Chloe said, much softer, her voice a little rough around the edges in a way that was every bit as new as the way her eyes kept drifting down to Beca’s mouth.

She felt her throat go dry, her already fuzzy mind clouding over even further, a slight pressure tingling its way to life in her lower abdomen as Chloe’s eyes flicked up and met Beca’s gaze, a question on her face she had no idea how to interpret, much less answer.

“Chlo?” Beca breathed out, the word barely audible even in the complete silence of the room.

And then she watched, almost in an out of body trance as Chloe eased a hand onto her bare ribcage, slowly and carefully rolling over until she was draped across Beca’s body, resting her weight on her elbow and brushing her fingers through Beca’s hair at her crown.

Beca’s heart stuttered in her chest, and her stomach clenched in a way that wasn’t quite painful but wasn’t necessarily comfortable either and her hands flew up, not entirely sure what she was supposed to do with them in this new and uncharted territory. Chloe froze, her gaze roving across Beca’s face with an intensity that was almost mesmerizing, still asking that same question, now demanding an actual answer. Beca felt her heart rate spike, the tingling in her abdomen intensifying until it was almost painful, the tension of the moment stretching and warping and tearing her apart from the inside until she found herself slowly lifting her head, her focus almost entirely on a pair of pink lips.

Their lips finally touched and Chloe’s response was immediate, sinking down to settle her body on Beca’s from chest to hip, a knee pressing against her own as her thigh lowered, pushing down in a way that caused the tingling in her abdomen to explode. Beca gasped, finally regaining control of her hands enough to twist one in Chloe’s hair, reaching out with the other to anchor herself on a slender waist. Chloe slid her hand down to Beca’s hip and leveraged herself up, and then there were fingers at her sides and palms brushing against her ribcage, a weight pressing against her breasts and her heart was thundering. Pouding. Harder than ever before.

Chloe pulled back from the kiss just long enough to change the angle of her head, pushing back in a way that caused Beca’s mouth to drop open, and then there was a tongue flicking against her own, the barest brush of initial contact.

Something happened. She couldn’t say exactly what, but it was almost like something woke up inside her. Something that had been dormant up to this point in her life that she never even knew existed. It felt like the first time. Like the first time she had ever done anything like this, because it had NEVER felt like this.

Beca’s mind swam and tilted and twisted on its axis. So she gripped harder. Kissed harder. Arched her back and pulled Chloe down and pressed their bodies as close as she could. Did everything she could to ground herself in the sensations flooding her body. Time warped, and Beca wasn’t exactly sure what happened, but she must have blacked out at some point, because the next thing she knew, she was waking up with a warm body completely twisted with her own.

The Bellas were really good at teaching her new things about herself. This, however, was something she wasn’t even remotely ready for.


	2. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe misses her best friend, Jesse is an asshole, and cramming all the Bella's together in a Karaoke bar is never a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning. There's a pretty decent amount of angst in this.

“You gunna go?” 

“What?”

“The reunion. Are you gunna go?”

Beca pressed pause on the track on which she was currently working and lowered her headphones from around her ears. “What are you talking about?”

“The Bella’s one-year reunion,” Jesse said with a roll of his eyes, dropping his messenger bag to the ground and throwing himself heavily onto their tiny two-seater couch crammed in their tiny living room in their tiny one-bedroom apartment. 

Fuck. The reunion. How the hell had he even found out about that? Beca had only just seen the e-vite on her Facebook like two days ago. 

“How do you…” Beca said in bewilderment. “How?”

Jesse shrugged. “Benji.”

“Ah. I take it he’s still relentlessly stalking poor Emily?”

“ _ You _ call it stalking,” he said with a wry grin. “I call it endearingly persistent.”

“It’s stalking, dude.”

“Meh. Tomato tomahto.”

Beca shook her head. “Poor kid needs to let it go.”

“No Becs,” Jesse said, pointing a finger at her. “ _ You _ just hate love.”

Beca shrugged and turned her attention back to her work. 

It was a few moments before Jesse cleared his throat again. “Well?” 

Beca rolled her eyes. “Well  _ what, _ Jesse?”

“Are you going to go?”

Beca frowned and growled a little under her breath. She had completely lost her train of thought and was  _ definitely _ more than a little irritated at the interruption. And besides, it was a moot point. Jesse knew her answer. He knew she had  _ zero _ plans to go to the reunion. Even the fact that he was bringing it up was incredibly irritating. Beca  _ hated _ thinking about the Bellas. She barely talked to any of them. The extent of her interactions with them over the past year had been the occasional frantic text from Emily needing help with an arrangement for the New Bellas, the two times she had called CR to ask if she could do background vocals on a track she was working on, and the occasional text from Fat Amy asking for money. 

“What do you think?” Beca intoned, sarcasm heavily lacing her tone. 

Jesse squinted at her. “You actually asking, or are you doing a Beca thing?”

“Jesse—”

“Cuz if you really want to know,” Jesse leaned back in the couch, lacing his fingers behind his head and raised a brow. “I think you’re being ridiculous.”

Beca rolled her eyes and lifted her headphones back up around her ears. Jesse, however, apparently wasn’t done, because he practically lunged off of the couch and crossed the room in two large strides to pull them back down from her ears. “I don’t understand, Beca."

“Dude!” She exclaimed with a huff. “They were just a singing group I was in in college. It’s  _ not _ a big deal”

“C’mon, Becs. You know you were super close with them. Hell,  _ I know  _ you were super close with them.” He paused, regarding her carefully. “So why are you pretending like you don’t want to go?”

Beca felt her stomach lurch a little and fought the sensation down. She hadn’t really been super close to  _ all  _ of them. The only person who really counted was— 

“Don’t you at  _ least _ want to see Chloe?”

Beca heaved a sigh and rubbed her eyes with her palms. “I don’t really want to see  _ any _ of them.”

Jesse sat heavily in the vacant chair, splaying his hands out on the table in exasperation. “But she was your best friend!”

“ _ You’re _ my best friend,” she countered.

“Well,” Jesse rolled his eyes, “that was adorable and sappy. But… you and Chloe were like—” Jesse waved his hands in the air, before clasping them together, twisting his fingers up into a knot— “inseparable. We practically had joint custody of you all throughout college, and I’m  _ pretty _ sure you liked hanging out with her more.”

“Yeah. Well. She didn’t try and make we watch movies every time we hung out, so…”

Jesse recoiled, doing a well practiced imitation of extreme indignation. “Well,  _ excuse me _ . At least with me, there was a good chance you were going to get lucky at the end of the night.”

Beca’s stomach shot up into her throat and she coughed a little around the sensation, struggling to regain her composure. 

_ This _ . This is why she didn’t want to talk or think about the Bellas. Because thinking about the Bellas came with a whole lotta baggage that she  _ really _ didn’t want to unpack. “Don’t be stupid,” she mumbled.

“ _ You _ don’t be stupid.”

Beca sighed heavily. “Look,” she said, rubbing again at her eyes, “if I tell you I’ll think about it, will you let it go?”

“Only if it means you’ll pull your head out of your ass and  _ actually _ think about it.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” Jesse said, bringing his hands down on the table in exclamation. “Glad that’s settled. Now what do you want for dinner? I’m starving.”

* * *

 

Ten months. That’s how long it had been since she had last seen Chloe. Ten months since she packed up the last of her shit and formally initiated Emily into the the Bellas with a pledge she had literally made up on the spot. Eleven since the night in Copenhagen. 

Eleven months since she had woken up alarmingly naked, with an equally alarmingly naked Chloe twisted in her arms, the taste of cherry chapstick still lingering on her lips. Eleven months since she found herself pathologically incapable of listening to anything that even  _ reminded _ her of Katy Perry. Eleven months since her first (and last) _ real _ fight with the one person she had been  _ certain _ would be in her life until the day one of them kicked the bucket. 

_ “Why are you freaking out, Beca. Nothing happened!”  _

_ “I don’t know what you remember, Chlo. But I remember enough to know that  _ shit happened _!” _

Almost a year later, and she still couldn’t really wrap her head around that whole shit show. She’d thought about it a lot and the general gist that she had come up with was:

 

  1. She had been spectacularly drunk.
  2. Chloe had been spectacularly drunk.
  3. Her memory of what _exactly_ had happened was frustratingly foggy ( _kinetic flashes of skin under her lips and hands, breathless moans and Beca’s name whispered desperately into her ear_ ).
  4. What she _did_ remember had been mind blowing. 
  5. Chloe was absolutely determined to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal, it was totally normal, and there was no reason to freak out. 



The worst thing she realized was: Whether or not Chloe thought it was a big deal didn’t matter, because at the end of the day, Beca had cheated.

(Chloe had tried to reason with Beca until she was blue in the face, gesturing dramatically with wild eyes in her panic for Beca to just calm down and relax.  _ “It’s not cheating, Beca. We were just _ — _ ”  “Experimenting? I doesn’t fucking  _ work _ that way, Chlo!”) _

Cheating had ruined her life. Cheating had resulted in screaming matches between her parents as far back as she could remember. Cheating made her Dad walk out of the house in the middle of the night — No goodbye. No nothing — to not be heard from again for  _ months _ . It was something she had  _ vowed _ to never EVER do. And yet she cheated. With her best friend. Who happened to be a girl. 

It had been… devastating. And the worst part of it was that Chloe  _ refused _ to get it. She  _ refused _ to understand how hurt and shattered Beca felt about the whole thing. (Ignoring, obviously, the  _ other _ confusing shit, like how  _ amazing _ the little she did remember had been.) It was all twisted up in guilt and remorse and more guilt and a self loathing that was difficult to breathe through. 

Beca hadn’t even been able to look at Chloe without feeling the tendrils of shame tainting their every interaction. So she stopped answering calls. Then she stopped responding to texts. And after about three months, Chloe finally stopped trying. 

It hurt. Everything about what had happened  _ hurt _ . It was painful and confusing and just… It  _ sucked _ . 

And she never told Jesse. She  _ couldn’t _ . She couldn’t tell him and make him feel the way her mom felt when her dad finally came clean. She wouldn’t —  _ couldn’t — _ do that to him. 

So here they were, a year later. She and Jesse were still together. And for the most part, they worked. He may have developed a bad habit of treating her like a social invalid in the wake of her self imposed exile from her group of closest friend, and somewhere along the way began exhibiting an unfortunate tendency to assume that he knew what was best for her without really bothering to consult her first, it didn’t ever really cause a  _ huge  _ problem, so it was fine. He always meant well, and Beca didn’t really care about much these days other than work, so whatever. It was comfortable.  _ He _ was comfortable. He really  _ was _ her best friend, and while they didn’t have the most passionate relationship ever, she loved him.

And it had taken her a while — a few months, to be exact — but she had mostly gotten over what had happened. This was mostly made possible by Beca’s devout resolution to completely avoid thinking about it by whatever means necessary. A huge part of that plan involved staying away from Chloe. And since Chloe had  _ always _ been the glue that kept all of the Bellas together, it meant staying away from the Bellas as well. 

Which was fine. She was fine. 

And besides the whole… Bella business… Well. Everything was pretty much going to plan. The demo she made with Emily had landed her a job as an Assistant Producer with Residual Heat, and she was determined to work her way up through the ranks and eventually land the coveted position of Producer that had been her goal since middle school. And she was good at her job. Fuck it. She was  _ great _ at her job. She wasn’t exactly  _ happy  _ where she was, but she was content. And as far as she was concerned, that was close enough. She didn’t need anything more. She had Jesse and her work, and that was enough for her. 

She was  _ fine.  _

So even though she actually did as Jesse requested and  _ truly _ thought about going to the stupid reunion, she ultimately decided that it wasn’t worth it. She didn’t want to rock the boat. She didn’t want to mess anything up. She had a goal. She was on a path. And she really didn’t want to fuck it up. 

Unfortunately, Jesse had other plans. 

 

* * *

 

“What are you doing? You need to get dressed!” Jesse exclaimed, looking at Beca as though she had grown a second head. She was already bundled in bed, the comforter pulled almost up to her chin in the highly airconditioned room. She didn’t care how much it tended to hike their PG&E bill. She liked the cold. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Duh. It’s date night.”

Beca groaned. “Didn’t we  _ just _ have a date night like, two weeks ago?”

“You know…” Jesse said with a little half-amused frown, “ _ Most _ couples try and make their date nights more than a monthly deal.”

“Well, we aren’t most couples. So why are we doing date night tonight?” 

“Because I said so.”

Beca groaned. She didn’t want to go. She was already in bed and comfortable and warm and the thought of putting on pants was probably the worst idea he had ever had. 

“Up!” He said, unceremoniously ripping the blankets off the bed and dumping them into the corner. “Now!”

“I  _ will  _ murder you…” Beca growled, the heat of her glare only moderately offset by the fact that she was now exposed in all her tank top and boyshorts glory. 

Jesse glared right back, his hands braced on his hips in a determined power stance. “Beca…”

“Jesse…”

But Jesse was persistent. Jesse was annoyingly persistent. And the more they stared each other down, the more Beca slowly resigned herself to the fact that he was winning.

After a few long seconds of facing off, Beca finally sighed. “Where are you taking me anyways?”  She grumbled. 

Jesse grinned. “Not telling. It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

“Well, you’ll thank me for this one.”

“I  _ highly _ doubt that.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


Beca was genuinely confused when Jesse pulled into the parking lot of a seedy bar, the only identifying marker a flickering neon sign in the window claiming it was “O en”.

“What is this?”

“Just get out of the car.”

And, like an idiot, Beca got out of the car. Shoving her hands deep in her pockets, Beca followed her sweet and loving boyfriend through the parking lot. She just managed to spot the paper taped on the wall that read “Welcome back Pitches” in truly impressive scrapbook design as he opened the door when dread flooded her body with a force that actually made her dizzy and she immediately locked her legs. Jesse rolled his eyes and unceremoniously shoved her across the threshold. 

As soon as they were inside, she turned to Jesse in a panic. 

“Jesse. No! I told you I didn’t w—”

“BECA!”

“DJB!”

“SHORT STACK!”

A chorus of greetings erupted around her and before Beca could really catch up with what was happening, she was  _ mobbed _ by a flood of estrogen and perfume, physically dragged away from the safe space her boyfriend was  _ supposed  _ to provide. 

A quick mental roll call revealed Ashley, Jessica, Stacie, Fat Amy, Emily and CR. How the fuck Emily had gotten in was a mystery, because Beca was pretty sure she was still 12. 

She looked over her shoulder at Jesse as she was pulled along, pleading with her eyes for a rescue, but he just laughed, wiggled his fingers in farewell and started backing away towards the door.

“Call me when you need me to come pick you up!”

Oooh. She was going to  _ kill _ him. 

 

* * *

 

Ok. Chloe wasn’t there. That was the only thing that was honestly keeping Beca from having a full-on panic attack. She did her best to mask that she was seriously struggling with the turn of events in what she had thought was just going to be another peaceful (if not boring) evening at the movies with her boyfriend (dead. He was so dead!), and luckily most of the girls just seemed to assume that she was being regular old Moody-Beca from College. 

Chloe may not have been there, but the dynamic between the group was all too familiar. The hole that the lack of her presence made was impossible to ignore. Every joke, every comment, every conversation that was happening around her reminded her of Chloe. 

Her brain couldn’t help but fill in the gaps. 

Stacie would say something, and Beca’s brain would immediately go, ‘And this is where Chloe would say…’ Emily supplied the group with a status report on how life with the New Bellas was going, and Beca would immediately think, ‘So Chloe would probably…’ 

Equally nerve-wracking was the way Beca would practically jump out of her skin every time the bell at the front door jingled as another patron ambled their way in, convinced that she would turn to find a tidal wave of red hair and blue eyes. 

It was exhausting, and honestly, after about 20 minutes, she knew something had to give. 

“I’m gunna call it ‘Fat Amy Wineho—”

“I need a drink.” Beca didn’t wait for any of the girls to respond. She just pushed herself heavily to her feet and made her way to the bar. 

She ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer and leaned heavily against the sticky surface while she waited, lowering her head and threading her fingers through her hair. 

This was weird. She felt  _ weird _ . She felt  _ bad.  _ And it wasn’t anybody’s fault that her insides were twisting, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself out of her weird mood and just  _ relax _ and enjoy herself like everyone else was. 

_ Fucking Jesse _ .  

“You ok?” 

The soft sound at her elbow made Beca jump nearly a foot in the air. She whirled around so fast that she felt a painful crick in her neck. 

“Jesus Christ! Emily. You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” Emily said sheepishly. “I just wanted to see if you were ok. You look a little… uncomfortable.”

“What?” Beca shook her head. “No!” She denied. “I’m not… How are you even in here, anyway? Aren’t you like-”

Emily laughed nervously, widening her eyes and tipping her head over to where the bartender was approaching to drop off Beca’s drinks. 

Beca opened then shut her mouth with a snap. “Right,” she said quietly. “Later?”

Emily nodded her head, doing a remarkably spot-on impression of a bobblehead. “Later is good.”

Beca nodded and grabbed her shot, tipping it back and hastily following with a heavy pull from her beer, wincing a little at the burn. 

“So are you? OK I mean?”

Beca let out a nervous laugh, exaggeratedly shaking her head. (She really was a terrible liar.)“Why would you think I’m not—”

“CHLOE!”

“RED!”

“AUBREY!”

Beca’s heart dropped into her stomach and she cut herself off with a swift intake of breath. “Sorry, Em. Gotta pee.”She didn’t wait for Emily to reply or let herself register the startled look on the younger girl’s face. She just ran. She was a coward. She was pathetic. She was…

Ok, she really  _ did _ have to pee. 

Beca managed to dart around the corner into the narrow hallway without incident, the single unisex bathroom blissfully vacant. She pushed inside and locked the door behind her, falling heavily against the wooden surface with a groan. 

Fuckfuck _ shit _ fuck. 

This was bad. Or she was over-reacting. Or this was bad  _ and _ she was over-reacting. She couldn’t really tell. All she knew  was that her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty and ok. Yeah. She was  _ probably _ over-reacting. 

“Get your shit together, Mitchell,” Beca grumbled to herself, finally pushing away from the door. 

She emptied her bladder then went over to stand at the sink, leaning heavily against the counter with locked elbows while she glared at herself through the dirty and heavily-graffitied mirror. The eyes looking back at her were hollow and haunted. 

This was pathetic.  _ She _ was pathetic. She was scared and it was stupid. It didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t like Chloe would try and bring anything up in front of everyone. It’s not like they had to talk about it at all. Beca was a grown ass woman. She was strong and independent. She also  _ really _ was taking way too long and probably needed to get the fuck back out there if she didn’t want everyone hounding her and asking what was wrong.

She could do this. All she had to do was act like she didn’t feel like her world had suddenly been tipped upside down, and smile and nod and just… she could do this. Just play nice and stay away from Chloe, then pull the adulting card of “it’s late and I have work and I’m tired” and pray that Jesse would actually cooperate for a change and pick her up. 

She could  _ do _ this. 

Her mind made up, Beca hastily washed her hands, her phone buzzing at her hip just as she was dropping a handful of paper towels into the trash. She pulled her phone out and glanced down before taking a deep breath and pushed the door open. 

**Jesse (9:54 p.m.)  
** How’s it going?

Beca frowned angrily at the offending gadget, trying to think of something imaginative and scathing enough to get across just how  _ pissed _ she was at him, when she suddenly collided with something solid and soft in the cramped space of the tiny hallway, the collision spinning her sideways. 

And then she was stuck, wedged between a wall and a body that smelled like flowers and fucking sunshine and rainbows and something fruity Beca had spent four years trying to decide was either pomegranate or raspberries. 

“Beca,” Chloe exclaimed, a little breathless. And fucking hell if that didn’t make butterflies erupt in her stomach. 

“Hey,” Beca squeaked. She took a jerky step to the right and Chloe mirrored her movements. Beca tried to step the other way, and Chloe again just followed resulting in them both stumbling over each other’s feet. Chloe reflexively reached out, her hands landing on Beca’s hips, and Beca’s hand landed on Chloe’s arm, her other hand still tightly gripping her phone ending up sort of wedged between their bodies, her knuckles pressing tightly against Chloe’s breasts from how they both kind of fell into the wall, pushing them so impossibly close, Beca couldn’t breathe. 

(Fuck butterflies.  _ Bats _ . There were fucking  _ bats _ rattling around her ribcage.)

Beca sucked in a deep breath, trying to ease her racing heart from where it seemed intent on beating its way out of her chest. Of course this would happen. The universe was a fucking asshole. 

Chloe laughed, her eyes darting up in apology as she untangled herself, raising her hands in surrender and slowly easing her body to the side, effectively releasing them from the worst first encounter Beca could have possibly imagined. 

Honestly. The  _ worst _ . Chloe crashing her shower had been less uncomfortable. 

“Sorry about th—”

“I didn’t mean t—”

Both girls fell silent, waiting for the other to continue. 

(The  _ worst. _ )

Chloe rolled her eyes and reached forward, pulling Beca into a hug. Beca felt her body stiffen as the essence of Chloe seemed to swallow her whole, flooding her senses and fogging her brain. 

“Hi,” Chloe said, her face tucked tightly into Beca’s neck, allowing her to feel the smile Chloe was pressing into her skin. 

The bats all did a synchronized dive into her gut and Beca sucked in a breath against a truly remarkable head rush. 

“Hey,” Beca repeated lamely into her shoulder. Beca locked her knees, doing everything she could to stay strong and resolute. Chloe didn’t comment on Beca’s stiff back and rigid posture. She pulled back with a smile, maintaining contact with a gentle grip around Beca’s forearms as though she were worried that if she let go, Beca might try and run away. 

“You look good.” Chloe said. “Shorter. But good.”

Beca rolled her eyes, raising her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear before noticing just how much it had started to shake, deciding at the last moment to tuck it into a fist and shove it into her pocket along with her phone. Chloe looked… Chloe looked great. Like always. Her hair was a little longer than it had been before, and her skin was a little bit lighter. Her eyes were the same, though. Still bright and so _blue_ that they seemed to suck all of the color out of the air around her. 

Beca cleared her throat and ripped her gaze away, eyeing her shoes as though something truly fascinating had spawned on her heel. “Whatever, dude. You have maybe an inch on me at best.”

“Two and a half.”

Beca rolled her eyes. “Ok, Rainman.”

Chloe laughed, and pulled her in again for another hug. 

This hug was much longer and much… sweeter, than the last, and Beca felt an old but vaguely-familiar tension lance up her spine and lodge itself into the base of her skull. Beca’s hands slipped out of her pockets and fisted in Chloe’s shirt at her shoulders, 100% intent on pushing her away so she could escape, when she felt Chloe take a deep breath and  _ melt _ into the embrace. “I missed you,” Chloe breathed into Beca’s ear. 

For a second, the bats in her gut all just calmed down for a blessed second, and Beca was able to breathe around the tight knot in her chest. Chloe’s arms tightened imperceptibly around her body, and Beca relaxed into the touch on reflex. It was so familiar, this tight spot tucked into Chloe’s chest. It felt more real and more familiar and more  _ home _ than anything Beca had felt since she left college. She tried to fight it. She tried to push the feeling down and away, but… God, she had missed this. 

Beca realized with mortification that she felt a prickling pressure behind her eyes and took a shuddering breath. Holy  _ hell _ she was fucked.

Chloe pulled away, and then they sort of just  _ looked  _ at each other, Chloe’s eyes flitting across Beca’s face with an intensity that was almost immediately overwhelming. 

Beca needed to walk away. She needed to walk away  _ right now _ . Beca wrenched her eyes away, taking a step towards the main bar and awkwardly gesturing with her arm. 

“I think we should probably—”

“Wait,” Chloe reached out and gently grabbed Beca’s coat at her elbow. “Before we go out there, I—”

“Hey, Tegan and Sara! Get your skinny asses over here!”

They both jumped at the words, looking over to see an impatient Fat Amy waving them over. 

Beca cleared her throat and turned to look back to where Chloe still stood, Beca’s jacket still loosely gripped in her fist. She had no idea what it was that Chloe wanted to talk about, but she really didn't care. The hallway was too small, and Beca’s small body felt like it was actually about to snap in half from the tension. 

“We should—”

“Yeah.” Chloe said with a slight shake of her head as though pulling herself from a trance. “Ok. Yeah. Later.” She released Beca’s arm, immediately tucking her hands into her jacket pocket and nodding towards the main room. “Ready to face the music?”

 

* * *

 

Chloe had not actually been using a figure of speech. She  _ literally _ had been asking if Beca was ready to face the music. Because as soon as they both made it back to the table, a mic was shoved into her hand, a heavy book thrust under her nose and it became immediately evident that the bar had most definitely  _ not _ been chosen for its ‘chic’ decor. 

Honestly, she didn’t know why she had expected anything less. Of  _ course _ they were at a Karaoke bar. 

Beca managed to weasel out of going first, sneaking back to the bar for another shot and to reclaim her beer where she had left it with Emily. (If she happened to do this by pushing Chloe under the bus and maybe sort of implying that she had agreed to go first, Beca honestly felt no shame. She needed to breathe.) 

Chloe, of course, was a good sport about it, and rolled her eyes at Beca’s antics before waving Aubrey over, launching into a bubbly and kind-of-dorky duet that was probably from some musical currently performing on Broadway. Beca watched them from her place by the bar and tried not to notice how incredible Chloe still sounded. Then it was a case of musical microphone, the girls all happily hopping up on the small stage. Most were all huddled around the small table with the music list, but Beca stayed at her spot at the bar, ordering drinks probably far too frequently to be smart. Most of the girls drifted over at some point and made an appearance with her, but Beca knew that she was being an exceptionally terrible conversationalist, and thankfully no one stuck around for too long. 

Beca had taken a second shot, was about halfway done with her third beer and had already ordered another of both when she  _ felt _ more than heard Chloe walk up behind her, slipping past to lean against the bar with her hip. Beca would have greeted her, but Chloe’s presence immediately had the unfortunate side effect of making Beca hyper aware of both her face and her breath and she wasn’t exactly sure what either were supposed to be doing to convey anything  _ other _ than extreme anxiety, so she stayed quiet. (Besides, it’s not like she really knew what to say anyway.) The room almost immediately seemed to shrink about five sizes, so Beca discreetly took a step to the side. They were still standing far closer than she was comfortable with, but at least their arms weren’t touching anymore. 

“It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since we’ve all been together like this.”

“Hmm.”

When Beca didn’t offer anything further, Chloe cleared her throat, her normally cheery disposition dimming a little around the edges. After a few more tense seconds, she kind of drew herself up, an overly-bright smile stretching across her cheeks that Beca could only tell, due to their extensive history, was a little bit forced. If anything, this just put her more on edge. “So, how have you been? What are you up to these days?”

Beca tilted her beer up and swallowed the last of the bottle in three over-ambitious gulps. “Umm. I’ve been good.” She honestly had absolutely no idea what her face was doing at the moment, so she ducked her head down, focusing intently on her empty beer bottle as she carefully started to rip the label off. “Still working at Residual Heat.”

“Oh nice!” Chloe chirped, then leaned over conspiratorially, brushing their shoulders together in a touch Beca could feel in her toes. “Are you a big bad producer yet?”

The near constant adrenaline rush of the evening didn’t seem like it was dying down anytime soon, and Beca felt fidgety and uncomfortable, like her skin was stretched too tight over her bones. “Oh. Um. No. Just a PA. I’m working on it, though.”

Chloe laughed. “I’m sure you’ll get there. You’re too disgustingly talented not to.”

Beca ducked her head even further to hide the blush she could feel creeping up her chest and neck. This was a little bit ridiculous.  _ It’s just Chloe _ , she tried to tell herself.  _ It’s just Chloe, and you were best friends for four years and you used to talk all the time. Sack up, dude! _

“What about you? You teaching?” Beca scrunched her brow, trying to remember what it was Chloe had said she wanted to do once free of Barden and released into the real world. “Or stripping?”

Chloe rolled her eyes and playfully bumped Beca’s shoulder. (Chloe’s naturally touchy nature was  _ not _ helping.) “Very funny. Neither, actually. Turns out that 7 years of college isn’t enough to walk into a teaching position so I have to take a few more classes to get my credentials.”

“Well, that blows.”

“It’s not so bad,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I got a job at a veterinary clinic working the front desk and I actually really like it. So I’m thinking about trying to be a vet tech.”

“Really! I never would have—” Beca paused and tilted her head. “No. Actually... It fits. You probably feel right at home surrounded by puppies and kittens.”

Chloe laughed and rolled her eyes, and Beca  _ almost  _ smiled back. She still felt like a tightly coiled spring, but the small talk wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world so maybe she would survive the evening after all. 

Beca was just trying to figure out another innocuous conversation starter to steer them clear of a potentially awkward silence when Chloe smiled in a way that didn't quite reach her eyes. It looked like she was trying to make eye contact, but her eyes only managed to flick up twice before dropping down to land on her hands where they were fidgeting against the bar top. Beca felt the loosening tendrils of unease snap back tight around her ribcage. “So… you still with Jesse?”

Beca swallowed once. “I… am. We live together.”

“Oh! That’s… that’s great.” Chloe said. Did her smile actually slip for a second, or did Beca just imagine it? “He’s a really good guy.” 

Yeah. A really good  _ dead _ guy. 

“He has his moments.”

“What has it been for you guys? Three years?”

“Um. Four. Actually.”

“Oh.” Chloe twisted her lips to the side, fidgeting a little against the bar as she twisted her fingers together. “I didn’t realize it had been that long.”

It became immediately apparent that Chloe wasn’t going to comment further, and Beca was ridiculously grateful. Talking about Jesse with her felt…  _ wrong _ . Beca cleared her throat again. “What about you? You… seeing anyone?” 

Dear god. Did she honestly expect  _ this _ topic to be any better? 

“I… Yeah. Yes. I am.”

Why did this feel so  _ weird _ ?

“That’s… cool. Good! That’s good.” Beca internally smashed her face against the surface of the bar at her lame tone. What was  _ wrong _ with her? 

“Yeah. It is. It’s… well we’ve only been together for a couple weeks, but I have a really good feeling about this one.”

“Oh.” Beca nodded with raised brows, at a total loss for an appropriate thing to say. “Um. Congrats then? I guess?” Had it always been this awkward when talking about their love lives with each other? Had they even ever  _ really _ talked about their love lives with each other? Beca honestly couldn’t remember. 

They lapsed into a silence that felt loaded and sharp, and Beca felt like her insides were itching and her skin was crawling and she  _ really _ was going to kill Jesse for this. 

“Well I probably should—”

“BecaIreallywantto—”

They both paused. “Sorry.” Chloe cleared her throat and smiled with a shake of her head.  “What were you going to say?”

“No. You… You go ahead.” 

“Oh. It’s… I don’t…” Chloe flicked her eyes up and met Beca’s for almost a full second before ducking her head back down with a nervous laugh. “Nevermind.”

Beca really should just let it drop. She should just take the out she was given, and sulk off and find another quiet corner to finish riding the evening out. However she couldn’t recall ever seeing Chloe this tightly strung before, and curiosity got the better of her. “It’s ok, Chlo. Just... what were you going to say?”

Chloe rolled her hip against the bar and bit the corner of her lip. She seemed to waffle for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I just wanted to say... I’m sorry. About… Well, about what happened.” Beca’s pulse skyrocketed and an ache lanced through her chest and raced down her arms. Apparently Chloe wasn’t done. “I didn’t…”  _ Was she really going to bring this up?  _ “I didn’t know that everything would—”  _ Now?! _

“No! Hey. We don’t—”

“No. Beca, listen.” Chloe reached forward and placed her hand atop Beca’s where it was resting against the surface of the bar. “I’m serious. I…” Chloe’s fingers squeezed. “I miss you. Like…” She laughed nervously, her eyes slipping shut as though with embarrassment. “A lot. I thought I’d get over it, but I haven’t.” When she opened her eyes, she pinned Beca with a look that was so open and so sincere, Beca couldn’t have looked away if she tried. “I regret doing anything to mess that up. To mess our friendship up. You know?”

Beca felt herself sway on her feet, excruciatingly torn between wanting to sink further into the gaze holding hers, and shutting whatever this was down out of fear. Chloe’s fingers squeezed a little tighter around Beca’s hand, and her eyes softened. 

The fear won. 

“Chloe, we  _ really _ don’t need to talk about this.” Beca mumbled, finally wrenching her gaze away and slipped her hand out from under Chloe’s, resuming her previous task of freeing her beer bottle of its label. 

“And we don’t have to,” Chloe rushed out with a quick shake of her head, her tone an odd mixture of anxiety and gratitude. “I just… I just want you to know I’m sorry. And—” She twisted her fingers together, biting her lip again as she looked down. “Well, I was kind of hoping we could just start over.”

Beca felt her face go slack in surprise. _ Start over? _ What did that even mean? For a second, Beca just shut down the critical and scared part of her brain and tried to imagine it; tried to picture having Chloe back in her life again, for real. It was hard to separate all of her anxiety and fear from the tangled mess that constituted her current feelings towards her ex-best friend, but if she thought back far enough, she still was able to remember what it had felt like to have Chloe as a constant. To have her as part of Beca’s daily life. It wasn’t something she had really allowed herself to think about over the past year, but she couldn’t deny it; those had been the best years of her life. She  _ missed  _ that. She missed  _ Chloe _ . She missed Chloe and their friendship and how easy and fulfilling and wonderful it had been  _ so much _ . And here Chloe was, standing in front of her with an open smile and words of peace, offering all of that back. Was it even possible?  _ Could _ they start over? How would they start over? Is ‘start over’ even the right way to put it? 

When Beca remained silent, Chloe laughed, her voice high and her eyes tight. 

“I’m sorry.” She said, shaking her head rapidly and waved a hand in the air. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Just ignore—”

“Chloe, I—” Beca cut herself off, completely at a loss of how she had intended to finish her sentence. (Honestly she didn’t really recall giving herself express permission to speak in the first place.) Her mind raced at a mile a minute, trying to catch up with what was going on, the hundreds of things she didn’t know how to say bottlenecking in her throat. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to will the words free. She  _ wanted _ to tell Chloe she missed her too. Wanted to share just how horrible it was without her in Beca’s life. Wanted to tell her she was terrified because she didn’t know how to forget what happened. Didn’t know how to not feel the ghostly echoes of that night in their every interaction. She wanted to ask Chloe if she felt the same. If Beca wasn’t alone. If Chloe could also feel just how  _ different _ it was now. If she too felt as though a line had been crossed that Beca was pretty sure there was no going back from. She wanted to ask if Chloe knew what any of this meant. If she had the answers. If she had figured out how to make it go away. The words all came and went, coating the back of her tongue and evaporating as they reached the front. 

“I…”, Beca started, and Chloe leaned in, the guarded expression on her face slipping and sliding to reveal the insecurity underneath. It honestly looked like her entire existence was suddenly dependent on the next words to come out of Beca’s mouth. Beca took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Chloe frowned, the guarded expression slipping a little further in her confusion. “...Yes?”

Beca twisted her lips in a tight smile at the bartender when he dropped off her drinks, and she didn't waste any time, immediately downing her shot, more than a little grateful at the distraction the burn in her throat provided.

“Yes to… to what you said.”

Chloe’s gaze flickered across Beca’s face as though searching for something, her face slowly brightening as she relaxed until her eyes were gleaming with hope. “To the do over?”

Beca rolled her eyes. “I don’t really know what that means, but... ok. Sure. Do over.”

The smile that stretched across Chloe’s face was almost physically blinding and it reached inside Beca’s chest and rooted out that spot that only Chloe had ever really touched, pushing and nudging it reluctantly to the surface. 

“Hey, Bhloe! One of you skinny bitches is up next.” Fat Amy yelled deafeningly into the microphone. Both Beca and Chloe jumped. It was a true testament to how completely preoccupied she was that Beca had not even noticed that anyone had been singing in the first place. Chloe’s smile brightened impossibly further before she leaned over the bar and rooted around, resurfacing with a red solo cup and a raised brow, her smile playful and mischievous. 

Beca rolled her eyes and smacked it out of her hands. “Don’t be a nerd.”

“It’s a  _ do over _ Beca. That means—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Don’t push it.”

Chloe rolled her eyes before linking her arm with Beca’s and pulled her away from the bar. 

Beca really wanted to believe that this could be the (re)start of something great, but she couldn’t help but  _ feel _ like she just signed her own death certificate. 

 

* * *

 

All in all, the night went pretty much exactly as Beca would have expected any kind of reunion to go. That is to say she felt awkward and uncomfortable and like she wanted to crawl out of her skin roughly 90% of the time. She survived though, which was something she had honestly doubted for a couple minutes there. Her boots felt much less steady standing outside on the curb than they had when she walked into the bar several hours prior, but that probably had more to do with the more-than-strictly-necessary number of drinks she had imbibed over the course of the evening than any lingering nerves or anxiety. Well, she still had a shit ton of lingering nerves and anxiety. They were just kind of muted, more a steady roar in the background and less someone screaming directly into her ear.

Beca had been standing outside for a while now, most of the girls having already paired off and left after a long and emotional goodbye filled with tears and  _ so many _ hugs and a collective vow Beca had zero intention of honoring to all get together again soon. Jessica and Ashley were still huddled in a corner doing whatever it was Jessica and Ashley always did, and Beca was focusing intently on her phone, doing her best to will Jesse into existence. It wasn’t the best distraction from Chloe’s shifting and fidgeting presence at her side, but it was the all she had. 

Chloe shivered dramatically, and Beca rolled her eyes, shrugging out of her peacoat and draped it over Chloe’s shoulders before she had a chance to decline or before Beca had a chance to overthink herself into inaction. Chloe had always been the  _ worst _ at dressing for colder weather, and it looked like four years of always having a best friend with a spare hoodie and warm hands was a hard habit to break. And she always got cold so  _ easily _ .

Chloe immediately started to protest, but at the hard and flat look Beca leveled her with, she shut her mouth and drew the jacket tighter around her shoulders, pulling it up until it covered the smile that was starting to stretch across her lips. “Thanks,” Chloe said softly. 

“Don’t mention it,” Beca said, returning her attention back to her phone so she could fire off another text asking for Jesse’s ETA. 

Jessica and Ashley swooped in for one last hug before disappearing into a single car and drove away.

And then there were two. 

For a while, they both just stood there, Chloe swaying and fidgeting on her feet, Beca staring intently at her phone and trying to ignore the slight ringing in her ears. The quiet of the parking lot was almost disorienting in contrast to the loud and abrasive ruckus back inside the bar. Equally disorienting was the way Chloe seemed content to just stand there in silence. She hasn’t said much since they exited the bar beyond returning everyone’s farewells, and it was actually starting to make Beca feel oddly anxious.  

“So did you drive here, or…”

“Uber,” Chloe replied, shifting her weight from one foot to the other from inside the jacket, her arms crossed high across her chest. The coat was pulled high up on her face so the only things really visible were her eyes and her hair cascading in flowing curls around her shoulders, the red tint only visible in the reflection of the dim street lights in the distance. It really was unfair how adorable she looked. It shouldn’t be allowed for someone to be that pretty and adorable and sexy—

“What about you? Did you drive here?”

Beca coughed, mentally beating the part of her brain that had just spoken up into a bloody pulp.  _ Sexy? Really? That’s where she wanted to go with this right now?  _ “Um. No. I have a… Jesse”

Chloe’s eyes twinkled with her smile. Like, Beca didn’t even need to see her mouth to know she was smiling. “Ah. One of the many perks of having a boyfriend, I assume.”

“Something like that.”

Thankfully, Beca was saved from any further awkward conversation when Chloe’s phone chirped. A white honda civic pulled into the parking lot and slowed to a halt directly in front of where they stood. 

“Guess that’s you?” Beca asked.

“Guess so.” Chloe pulled Beca’s jacket reluctantly off her shoulders and immediately shivered at the cold. 

Beca smirked. “Wimp.”

“Shut up,” Chloe laughed, trying and failing to give Beca a sufficiently chastising glare. “I am a delicate flower.”

Beca snorted, her laugh catching her off guard. Chloe chuckled one last time before reaching out with a jerky hand to give Beca her jacket back, her smile a little bit hesitant but genuine. Beca accepted the garment, doing her best not to flinch when their fingers lightly brushed. She could tell Chloe wanted to hug her, and honestly, it seemed weird not to, but Beca just couldn’t. She was still way overstimulated from an evening of incredibly touchy girls, and she just… She couldn’t. So she stepped back.

She was a little worried that Chloe would take it the wrong way, but luckily she just smiled, her eyes soft and understanding. “We really shouldn’t wait another year to all get together again,” Chloe said softly, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear before wrapping her arms around her torso. “It was... pretty intense, this time. But you know how the group is. They'll always be this high-energy if we wait this long to see each other."

Beca shrugged. “Probably.”

“Well, at the very least, I hope  _ we _ don’t go another year without…”

Beca felt a stab of guilt and sucked a breath in through her teeth. “Yeah. No. I’ll… We won’t.”

Chloe pressed her lips together with a smile, her eyes tight and anxious. “So I can call you later? Or text?”

“Yeah. Yeah you can.”

“And you’ll answer?”

Beca rolled her eyes. “Yes, Chloe.”

“You promise?”

“Will you get in your Uber before he decides to leave?”

Instead of coming in for a hug, Chloe reached down and gently grabbed Beca’s hand, squeezing once before letting it drop, meeting Beca’s eyes with a smile that looked like hope. “Goodnight, Becs.”

Beca’s fingers immediately began to tingle, and she had to stop herself from wiping them on her thighs. The moment felt oddly intimate. 

“Night, Chlo.” Beca murmured back, her voice coming out unexpectedly rough. 

Chloe smiled one last time before opening the door and slipping inside. The sound of the car door slamming shut was loud and abrasive and Beca watched the car pull away until it turned a corner and was out of sight.

Beca let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, letting her head fall back so she could stare up at the starless sky. She felt hallowed out and raw, too many thoughts and feelings vying for attention for her to focus on any single one. Things with Chloe after their talk had been strange. She had tried her best to relax into the old rhythm and flow and could tell Chloe was doing everything she could think of to help, but it wasn’t the same. Whether it was because so much time had gone by that they honestly had to relearn how to be around each other again, or because of everything else (she wasn’t an idiot. She knew it was because of everything else), the tension never really dropped, and Beca had felt nothing but relief when the girls all came to a collective decision to call it a night. 

Shivering in sudden gust of cool air (ok. Maybe it was a  _ little _ bit colder than she had thought), she shrugged her coat back around her shoulders, buttoning it to the top. She felt a surge of relief when she finally spotted Jesse’s car turning into the parking lot. 

As soon as the car slowed to a stop at her side, she reached down and yanked the door open. 

“So… How was it?” Jesse asked, smirking confidently.

At the sight of the smirk, Beca abruptly felt all her walls and barriers from the evening drop with a sickening lurch, the steady hum of her nerves and anxiety suddenly rocketing up in pitch, fueled by the copious amounts of rage unleashed into her bloodstream.

“Don’t talk to me,” Beca hissed, stiffly tucking herself into the car and fastening her seatbelt.

Jesse recoiled back in his seat, his smirk somehow only dimming a little as he pulled back as though physically repelled by the dark cloud of frustration and rage that quickly spread throughout the cab. “Seriously?”

Beca turned in her seat, leveling him with the most indignant and vicious glare she could manage. Even then, she had to quickly rip her gaze away. She honestly couldn’t even  _ look _ at him she was so pissed. “I told you I didn’t want to go, Jesse! I didn’t say that just to hear myself talk.”

Jesse sighed and threw his head back, tilting his head to look at her with a wry grin. “But you love to hear yourself talk.”

Beca could only blink through her outrage. “Do you think this is a joke right now?”

Jesse rolled his eyes, dramatically throwing the car into gear. He pulled out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic. Beca shook her head in disbelief. He didn’t get it. He  _ really _ didn’t understand just how much he had overstepped his boundaries. He was doing that stupid thing where he was treating her like a fucking child and Beca  _ really  _ didn’t have the patience for him right then. For a blessed moment, Jesse remained silent, seeming to have spontaneously developed a sense of self preservation. However, as Beca kept her gaze fixed stonily out the front windshield, forehead resting against a fist she had braced against the armrest, she could see Jesse turning his head to look at her in her periphery, his expression slipping more and more into one of amusement. “Are you honestly going to give me the silent treatment?” 

Beca’s anger was truly starting to approach biblical proportions, and she bit her tongue against the multitude of impressively scathing retorts that flashed through her mind. Jesse took a deep breath, and Beca felt herself stiffen. She knew the moment he opened his mouth that anything that came out was only going to make the situation infinitely worse.

“Ok.” He said with a note of finality. “This is ridiculous.  _ Why _ are you so determined to just shut the door on that whole chapter of your life and pretend like it didn’t happen?” 

Beca widened her eyes and shot him a look. “That’s not—” For a moment, Beca’s mind clogged with the wave of angry retorts that all scrambled and vied for selection, so she clenched her teeth and took an angry breath, latching onto the first one that had even a semblance of clarity. “Why is this such a big deal to you?”

“Because I don’t get it!” Jesse exclaimed, dropping his hands on the steering wheel for emphasis. “I don’t understand how you can care so  _ deeply _ about a group of people, then just…  _ shut if off _ . You were with them for  _ four years _ ! You lived with them for three. You sang for the president and traveled the country and went to  _ Europe  _ with them. It’s just...” Jesse waved his arms emphatically in the air, “it’s bizarre, Beca. Especially with Chloe. It’s just—”

And just like that, Beca lost all semblance of control. “Oh my god. Why are you so fixated on my friendship with Chloe?!”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that—”

“You are! You’ve been shoving her down my throat since you brought this whole thing up!”

As if announcing her presence in the tight confines of the car, the smell of Chloe’s perfume wafted across her face, still clinging to the coat Beca had buttoned up to her throat.  

Jesse frowned, pinching his brow in consternation. “Well, I think that that’s a gross exaggeration.”

Beca ripped at her buttons and hastily shrugged her jacket off her shoulders, balling it up in a tight wad and shoving it into the back seat. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t just leave it alone.”

“They’re your  _ friends _ Beca! I can’t just be  _ it  _ for you. You need—”

“For fuck’s sake, will you just  _ stop _ ?!” Beca felt something snap in her chest and clenched her fists, bringing them up to press into her eyes before ripping them away, pinning Jesse with a glare that carried more heat than she could remember using since high school. “It isn’t your job to decide what I need!"

Jesse went stiff in his seat, obviously surprised by her outburst. “Beca… I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t  _ have _ to  _ think, Jesse _ ! I didn’t want you to  _ think. _ I didn’t need you to  _ think _ . I needed you to  _ listen _ . And I told you I—”

“OK! I get it!” Jesse ran a hand through his hair, turning to briefly met Beca’s eyes before turning back to the road. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t the most sincere apology she had ever received, but as long as it got him to shut up, it was good enough for now. 

The tension that floated down and settled in the cabin of the car was thick and sharp, as though any quick movements would leave them both sliced or impaled. Beca was totally willing to just complete the drive in determinedly furious silence, but they barely made it another two blocks before Jesse was at it again. 

“Are you seriously  _ that _ pissed at me right now?”

Beca sneered, hunching herself as far away from him as she could in the tight confines of the car. She rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window. “Yes, Jesse,” she barked out in a scathing and bitter tone. “I’m seriously ‘that pissed’ at you.”

“So…” he hedged. “You didn’t have a good time at all?” His tone was almost pathetically hopeful, and only pissed her off even more. 

Beca rolled her eyes and shot him a glare before shivering. She was starting to get cold again and angrily reached over to crank up the heat. 

“What do you think? There was crying. There was hugging, and there was a shit ton of singing. What part of that screams ‘Beca’ to you?”

Despite knowing he was totally in the dog house, he had the nerve to roll his eyes. “Did you at least  _ talk _ with any of them?”

She knew what he was asking. It was obvious he wanted to know if she and Chloe had made up or reconnected or whatever else he had decided needed to happen. The fixation he had on her and Chloe’s friendship was almost irrationally infuriating. 

It was only her desire to get him off her back and hopefully shut him up that led to her actually answering. “Maybe,” she grumbled. 

“What does ‘maybe’ mean?”

And she was done. “Can we just have quiet time now? I have a headache.”

Jesse raised his hands in surrender, the smile he was trying and failing to hide pulling at the corner of his mouth. Beca’s breath hitched at the spike of fury that lanced through her, but she was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion and realized she didn’t have the energy to address it. She was tired and  _ pissed  _ and overwhelmed and overstimulated and well past tipsy on the drunken scale. She wanted her bed. She wanted to just go to sleep and pretend like none of this had happened. Jesse clearly thought he had won. That her silence was some kind of concession that he had been right all along and Beca was just being stubborn and irrational about this whole thing. Honestly? He was right about 93% of the time when it came to stuff like this. With literally  _ any _ other area of her life, Beca would honestly be swallowing her pride (at least to herself) and actually considering whatever he was saying. But she  _ couldn’t  _ with this. She didn’t  _ want _ to think about this. She’d spent the past year largely successful in  _ not _ thinking about this. She didn’t want to open this box and take everything out and relive it all over again. She wanted to slam it shut and duct tape it closed and stuff it far and deep into the furthest and deepest closet she owned. 

Beca tilted her head against the window and stared at the passing cars and streets around them. An image of Chloe in those last few seconds before she crawled into her Uber rose unbidden in her mind. Her hair blowing slightly in the wind and her face pinched against the cool air gusting through the parking lot. Eyes screaming insecurity and fear. 

_ “And you’ll answer?” _

_ “You promise?” _

_ Do over. _ (Only Chloe would suggest summing up and dismissing their ridiculously complicated history with a term as innocuous as a  _ do over _ .) Beca still didn’t really understand how something like that was possible for them, but it didn’t really matter. Chloe was going to call, and Beca was going to answer. Complicated history aside, Beca couldn’t even consider the alternative. Because at the end of the day, this was Chloe. 

  
  



	3. I missed you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe knows Beca better than she knows herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was extremely fun to write. I swear. These girls practically write themselves.

It was at around the one week mark that Beca even  _ considered _ letting Jesse off the hook. She hadn’t been exaggerating or overreacting when she had been in the car. She honestly had never been that angry at him before (hadn’t been that angry in a  _ while _ ), and even Beca was surprised at how long it took for the lingering and residual fury to finally die down altogether. Jesse was a good sport about it for about two days before he lost his patience, rolling his eyes at her bitter tone and tightly voicing his frustration when she didn’t let him so much as touch her. Beca had to concede, however, that not all of the anger was entirely his fault. At least not directly. 

(It was definitely still his fault.) 

The thing was, Chloe hadn’t texted her yet. Beca spent the first couple days after the reunion pretty much terrified of her phone. Every time it beeped or buzzed or chimed or whatever the right term is for those stupid mini computers, Beca had jumped and her heart had skyrocketed into her throat. Every passing day only wound her tighter and tighter, because she knew Chloe and she knew it was only a matter of time. She was a nervous wreck, and this made her angry, and ultimately it was really easy to just pin all that anger on Jesse, because she was only in that situation to begin with due to his well intentioned, but catastrophically executed intervention. 

However, even she couldn’t maintain that kind of fury indefinitely, so she had to find something else on which to blame her generally distracted demeanor. Luckily, her boss had recently signed on a new artist, and her work had started to ramp up, so she  _ dove _ into her work with a devotion and single minded dedication that really would have made college a hell of a lot easier had she managed to channel it during her finals. Basically, she did everything she could to distract herself, because living on edge like that wasn’t healthy. 

All in all, it took three and a half weeks. Three and a half weeks to the day turned out to be  _ exactly _ the right amount of time for Beca’s guard to drop. For her to forget that her phone was something to fear. That it had the potential to completely derail her day and hijack her mind. 

It was in the afternoon and she was actually on her lunch break when her phone finally turned against her. She knows she was on her lunch break, because she had just taken a rather large bite of her sandwich (roast beef and salami. Don’t ask. It was her favorite), when her phone tightly vibrated across the surface of her desk. She didn’t think anything of it, flippantly grabbing the device and unlocking the screen. 

The sight that met her had ner nearly choking around soggy bread and bargain deal lunch meats. 

 

**Chloe (12:17 p.m.)  
** Hey. I know it’s been a  
while, but I just wanted to   
say that it was really great   
seeing you the other night

 

Beca stared at her phone, heart hammering wildly in her ears.  _ Fuck _ . Ok. This was happening. She needed to write something back. 

(Should she say it back? Would that be weird? Maybe just a ‘hey’, or ‘long time no text’... No. That was stupid. Holy shit Mitchell.  _ Get your shit together.)  _

Beca tried to turn the flood of emotions into righteous anger at Jesse again, but the feeling was old and tired and her mind didn’t cooperate. 

“Reggie!” 

Beca jumped at her boss’s swift appearance. He had this annoying propensity to sneak up on her. It was nerve wracking. It literally seemed like he had the ability to just materialize out of thin air. 

“Um. Yeah?”

“You confirm this afternoon’s recording schedule yet?”

“I- Yeah. I did first thing this morning.”

“Great… Grea- What the hell is that?”

Beca looked down at her desk. “My lunch?”

“What is that smell? Is that… Is that salami?”

“...Yes?”

He stared at her for a moment longer, dipping his head and painstakingly slowly lowered his sunglasses from their permanent perch across his nose. “You people disgust me.”

Beca opened her mouth to reply, feeling more than a little insulted when he pushed himself away from the door jamb and was off. “Hey!”

“Studio at 3, Reggie. Don’t be late!” He yelled over his shoulder, then swiftly disappeared around a corner. 

Beca rolled her eyes with a grumble, shaking her arms out to shuck her irritation away. She was  _ mostly  _ used to the eccentric nature of her office by now. Her label had a reputation for making some great music, but  _ jesus christ _ they were all batshit crazy. 

Beca returned her attention to her phone, tapping her thumbs against the screen a couple times before resolutely pushing it to the side. She would get to it later. She said she would reply to Chloe’s texts, and she meant it, but… Well... Chloe didn’t know what her schedule was like. For all she knew, Beca had meetings all afternoon. She promised herself she would respond later, and forcibly shoved it out of her mind. 

This went on all day. First she was busy in fictitious meetings all afternoon, then once the recording sessions started, she told herself Chloe had no idea of knowing whether or not she was allowed to have her phone on in the studio. (She was totally allowed to have her phone on in the studio.) By the time the session wrapped up, she was pretty sure a reasonable amount of time had gone by for her to plausibly have forgotten about it when she got off work, then surely Chloe didn’t want her to text and drive… right?

 

Before she knew it, she was eating dinner, and she didn’t want to be rude to Jesse. Then it was his turn to pick a show or movie for the evening (she gave him once a month to show her some old favorite of his or whatever. It had started at once a week, but Beca was only human), and Chloe would totally get that Jesse got really annoyed when she was on her phone and not paying attention to whatever he had picked... 

The entire time, Beca’s phone burned a hole in her pocket, seeming to weigh much more than a tiny sliver of plastic and tech had any business weighing. It was like a black hole, sucking up her thoughts and focus and attention with ceaseless and greedy devotion. 

Beca finished brushing her teeth (the clock on her phone proudly displaying that it was  **10:02 PM** ), almost a full day of sufficiently distracting fictitious activities leaving her  _ exhausted.  _ She was also cripplingly aware that she was out of excuses and was running out of time. She spit in the sink and rinsed her mouth, glancing up and quickly dismissing her anxious and drained reflection before resolutely stalking out of the bathroom, grabbing her oldest and favorite Barden U hoodie from the corner of her bed. Jesse was still watching something on the TV and didn’t notice when she quietly slid the door open to the small balcony and slipped out. 

It was almost immediately easier to breathe. The balcony was  _ her _ space. It was the only place that didn’t have Jesse’s socks or music books or movies lying around and didn’t smell overwhelmingly like popcorn. It was the one space she had that she felt like she could just shut everything out and  _ think. _

Beca pulled out her phone and unlocked the screen, navigating her way to her messaging app and stared at Chloe’s text, chewing anxiously on the corner of her thumb. She knew she needed to say  _ something _ . She had promised. Literally  _ anything _ would be enough. However, even after over ten hours of obsessing and deliberating over it, she was 100%, absolutely and  _ completely _ drawing a blank. 

(It had nothing to do with the fact that texting Chloe back would be the first tangible step in their attempt at reconciliation. It had nothing to do with the fact that Beca was terrified of having an  _ actual _ and  _ real _ conversation with her.)

She had been staring at the phone for almost five minutes when she realized how ridiculous she was being and started to laugh. Nothing bad was going to happen. It was just a text. It didn’t have to  _ mean _ anything. Chloe was just a friend from college. Beca texted people all the time. Sucking in a breath, Beca held it as she clicked on the offending message and opened the chat box, her thumbs hovering over the screen for almost as long as it took for her to need air before she exhaled in a rush and - _ fuck it-  _ typed something out and fired it off. 

Almost immediately, Beca could see the little dots showing that Chloe was already typing something back. Beca tried to tell her heart to shut up, but it sped up anyways, racing ahead as though it were approaching a finish line.

(It didn’t mean anything.)

 

**Chloe (10:13 p.m.)  
** Seriously?

 

Beca frowned. That’s… not exactly what she had been expecting. 

 

**Beca (10:14 p.m.)  
** ?

 

**Chloe (10:14 p.m.)  
** Ditto?

  
  


**Beca (10:14 p.m.)  
** Ya?

 

Beca was confused. Chloe wasn’t texting her back, and she was very confused. 

 

**Beca (10:16 p.m.)  
** Like, I feel the same

 

**Beca (10:17 p.m.)  
** or whatever 

 

Beca finally saw the little dots dance on the screen again, but the moment stretched for an impossibly long time and she began to legitimately fear the novel Chloe must have been composing. She remembered the texts Chloe was capable of sending. She remembered how Chloe thought it perfectly reasonable to send extensive essays narrating whatever funny thing had happened in class. Or going on an impressively spectacular rant about whatever latest social issue had sparked her passion. Whatever it was she was concocting, Beca wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready for  _ any _ of this. What if Chloe was bringing everything up again? What if she wanted to get everything out in the open so they could hash everything out? What if she was mad Beca had taken so long to reply? What if she had changed her mind? What if she had decided she had made a mistake and the reason she had taken three weeks to text her was because she didn’t actually want to try and be friends again and-

The phone in her hand abruptly came to life, buzzing in an abrasive and grating sound that made her jump. However, it wasn’t a text. Chloe was  _ calling _ her. 

Beca stared stupidly at the screen, letting it ring three and a half times before she finally accepted the call, bringing the phone up to her ear with a shaking hand. 

“Um. Hello?”

_ “Ditto, Beca?” _

“...What?”

_ “Did you seriously just use ‘ditto’ with me?”  _ “I was-” _ “After all this time?” _

Beca’s heart was out of control. Like, just-ran-a-marathon-and-was-about-to-give-out kind of out of control. “I was just telling you I felt the-”

_ “Oh my god, you’re such a dork”.  _ Beca cut herself off when she heard a laugh filter through the speakers.

_ This _ is what had turned her into such a nervous wreck throughout the day? Beca had been on the verge of a panic attack all day for  _ this _ ?! Beca was irritated. She was irritated at herself and irritated at her phone and at Jesse (This was still his fault) and at Chloe and irritated at this whole situation.

“Ok. I’m gunna go now-”

_ “No! Wait. I’m-”  _ more laughter  _ “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” _

Beca frowned down at her phone. She couldn’t tell if she was angry or relieved. It was confusing and she was angry but she was also kind of relieved and her heart was still pounding and she didn’t really know what any of this meant but she didn’t like it. 

“You’re kind of a jerk. You know that?”

Chloe was still laughing, but then Beca realized it was in that weird way she had of not making Beca feel particularly self conscious or bad. It was like a freakish mutant power of hers. Chloe was literally the only person that Beca knew that could laugh at someone at make them feel totally fine about it in the process. 

_ “No I’m not.” _

Chloe was  _ still _ laughing and Beca honestly tried her hardest not to smile at the sound of Chloe’s giggles coming through the speakers. Everything was so much easier when she was angry. She really  _ really _ tried.

“You kinda are.”

(But this was Chloe, and her laugh had always been the most infectious sound she had ever heard.)

_ “Liar.” _

Beca wanted to argue, but she knew that if she so much as tried to speak, Chloe would be able to hear the smile in her voice, and she didn’t want to encourage her. So she just stood there, mouth awkwardly pinched against the expression fighting to take hold, fidgeting a little against the wall and feeling a little overwhelmed and raw at the reality of the situation as it rushed over her in a sudden wave. She was on the phone. With Chloe Beale. They were talking again. And poor jokes aside, it actually wasn’t as life threateningly horrible she had originally assumed it would be. The silence that settled over the moment was drastically different than any they had shared at the reunion, the edges soft and almost comfortable.

_ “Hey” _ , Chloe finally coo’ed, her voice sweet and gentle, as if she too were aware that they were sharing a rather precious moment that she didn’t really want to break. 

“Hey”, Beca replied, the word coming out a little rough at the raw emotion flooding her chest. 

_ “You answered.” _

Beca’s smile dropped in a wave of guilt and she sucked in a breath, reaching up to scratch at her eyebrow with a hand she had tucked into her sleeves. “Yeah. I know it’s late but I was super busy all day with meetings and-”

_ “I meant your phone. Just now.” _

“Oh. Well…”  She honestly didn’t know how she had originally planned to finish the sentence, so Beca kind of just let it die. However the silence only just started to stretch when her curiosity got the better of her. “Why did-” Beca cleared her throat. “Why  _ did _ you call?”

_ “Honestly?” _

“...Yeah?”

Beca could hear Chloe take a deep breath.  _ “I kind of just... I wanted to get it over with.” _

_ Ooooook _ ? What the hell did that mean? “Get it over with?”

_ “Well…”  _ Chloe paused. Beca tried not to hold her breath. Chloe paused and Beca tried not to hold her breath, because she was pretty sure she was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Because all of her anxiety and concerns from earlier rushed back in with a dizzying force. _ “Ugh. OK. So the reunion was kinda tense. And I figured all of our milestone in this ‘do-over’ were probably going to be the same. So I decided I might as well just get the first call out of the way so it wouldn't feel so weird later, you know? And if we have the call out of the way then texting will probably not be so bad either because it definitely feels kind of weird right now, right? And I really just want us to be able to push through this awkward stage as quickly as possible so we can just get back to how it used to be. Does that make sense?” _

Beca blinked, struggling to comprehend the wall of words that Chloe had just unleashed. Her mind had gone a little blank, but she latched onto the first thing that she was fairly certain she understood in all that, and that was that Chloe wasn’t mad, and wasn’t going to bring anything up, and didn’t regret suggesting the do-over, so  _ maybe _ it was ok for her to stop feeling a little bit like she was about to die. Her heart was still racing in her chest, but Beca tried to force it to just shut up and listen for a change and  _ calm the fuck down _ . 

“You seem to have put a lot of thought into this.”

_ “Maybe.”  _ Chloe said softly, and Beca could hear the sheepish smile in her voice.  _  “What are you doing?” _

Beca scolded her racing heart one last time, then leaned her head back, letting herself slide down the wall until she reached the cold concrete, her knees pulled into her chest. Her legs were still feeling a little shaky from the emotional rollercoaster of the past 5 minutes, so sitting seemed like a really good idea. “I’m outside. I have a balcony.”

_ “Aren’t you cold?” _

Beca’s body chose that exact moment to contract on a shiver, so she wrapped her free arm around her torso, tucking herself a little tighter against the wall. “It’s not so bad. What about you?”

_ “Am I cold?” _

“No. Like…” Beca rolled her eyes. “What are you doing? It’s kind of late.”

_ “Oh. Graveyard shift.” _

“Ah. That’s right. At the…” Beca thought back to the reunion, playing through their every interaction for what felt like the thousandth time. “The clinic, right?”

_ “That’s right”,  _ Chloe said using her smile voice again.  _ “What about you? Do you have work tomorrow?” _

This wasn’t so bad. They were just talking. And it was easy. Just easy talking. Easy talking with Chloe. “I do, but the boss usually doesn’t show up until 10:30 at the earliest, so I’m usually fine not getting there until around 10. Sometimes he keeps us pretty late though.”

_ “Hmm. Well, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to-”  _ Chloe cut herself off, and Beca heard her smile fade. Ok, but seriously. It was weird that she could tell when Chloe was or wasn’t smiling  _ over the phone _ , right?

“Did I lose you?”

_ “No. I’m still here.” _

“What were you going to say?”

_ “It’s kinda dumb Becs. You don’t wanna hear it.” _

Except she kinda sorta  _ definitely _ really needed to. 

“It’s ok. You can tell me.”

Chloe was quiet for so long, Beca actually pulled the phone away from her ear to make sure she hadn’t dropped the call. “Chlo?”

_ “I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.” _

“Oh.”

_ “I know it’s dumb. It’s just been-” _

“No it’s ok. I…” Beca scratched her ear, scrunching her nose and laughing a little bitterly at the sudden re-emergence of nerves fluttering around her stomach. “Ditto.”

Chloe’s smile was back. She could practically  _ hear  _ it. Beca could picture her in her mind, smile wide around clenched teeth as she tried not to laugh. Not laugh in a mean way. Beca just knew that Chloe sometimes laughed when she was exceptionally happy or particularly excited about something. 

(Or when she was upset, or angry or confused or frustrated... OK. She laughed a lot. The trick was being able to tell the difference.)

(This would definitely be a happy laugh.)

There was a strange feeling in her chest, as though a balloon were expanding but didn’t really have anywhere to go. “I should… I should probably get going, though. I do need to get some sleep.”

_ “Yeah... Ok yeah. It’s definitely kinda late”.  _ Except it was only 10:48 p.m. and they both knew that Beca had much more nocturnal habits than would warrant going to sleep any time before midnight. 

_ “Did it work though?” _

“Did what work?”

_ “Can I text you again and it not make you freak out all day before getting back to me?” _

Beca felt her cheeks heat in a blush. “Hey! That’s not… I didn’t-”

_ “It’s ok Becs.”  _ Chloe cut her off, her tone almost unbearably soft and gentle. _ “It took me over three weeks to text you in the first place. I’m not upset.” _

“You-” There was  _ no way _ Chloe was freaking out about this as much as Beca was. Not a chance. “It did?”

Unless there was an audience involved or competition on the line, Chloe didn’t  _ do _ ‘freak outs’. Chloe was fearless. She had nerves of steel. She was-  _ “Yeah. I was really nervous” _ \- apparently really nervous.  _ Huh _ . 

“Oh.” 

_ “It was worth it though. It was... really nice talking to you.” _

Knowing she wasn’t the only one struggling with this whole situation immediately made Beca feel 100% less like an idiot and calmed her down better than any of her previous (admittedly poor) pep talks. If Chloe was nervous, then it wasn’t weird that Beca was nervous. If it wasn’t weird to be nervous, then she wasn’t over reacting. If she wasn’t over reacting, then everything she was feeling was totally ok and normal. The thought was ridiculously comforting. 

“It… wasn’t terrible.”

Chloe’s eye roll was so impressive, Beca could actually  _ hear _ it over the phone.  _ “You’re terrible”. _

Beca snorted, only half heartedly fighting off the smile that was trying to stretch its way across her face. 

_ “I’m really glad you answered.” _

Beca’s revelation gave her a surge of bravery. “I told you I would.”

_ “I know. I’m just… I’m really glad.” _

Neither of them said anything for a bit, and Beca started to feel the nerves in her stomach start to kick up again. She felt like she should probably say something; maybe affirm that she was glad Chloe had called, or something else equally reassuring. But she honestly didn’t really know  _ how _ she felt about this whole situation, and Chloe would be able to tell if anything coming out of her mouth wasn’t entirely genuine. 

_ “Right. OK. I’m gunna let you go now.” _

Beca bit her lip, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and reluctance swirling in her chest, equal parts grateful that Chloe was giving her an out and sad that it was so obviously needed. 

“Yeah. Ok. Well enjoy the rest of your shift.”

_ “I will. Goodnight Beca” _

Beca tightened her fist around the phone, feeling an unexpected rush of emotion at the delicate and reverent way Chloe spoke her name, sparking echoes of an old but familiar feeling of safety and warmth to radiate through her body. 

“Goodnight.”

At the mutual silence, Beca found herself holding her breath. She didn’t really know if she was supposed to hang up first or not, so she just... sat there and held her breath. Maybe Chloe was feeling the same way, because there was  _ definitely _ a noticeable pause before the subtle change of sound quality indicated she had disconnect the call. 

The phone line going dead was like a trigger for time to start back up, the faint ambient sounds of the streets and city and life picking up and resuming around her. It was cold, but Beca didn’t move. She wasn’t quite ready to leave yet; Wasn’t ready to completely release her hold on the moment that she had just experienced. So she sat there for a while, just… absorbing. She knew what that phone call meant; the doors that were just opened. What was strange, was how calm and OK she felt about it all. This was the person she had spent a year avoiding like the plague. Not just the physical presence of her… literally  _ everything _ about her; everything that even  _ reminded _ Beca of her. But she was back now. Beca tried to remember why it had felt so important to stay away, but she was having a hard time really remembering all the specifics right then. Sure, they had history, and yeah, neither of them seemed like they were willing or able to bring anything up anytime soon, so of  _ course _ , everything would definitely be a little awkward, but... Overall it was just… Chloe. It was  _ nice _ hearing her voice again; just sharing a space with her that wasn’t crowded with the choking presence of a group of big personalities; just the two of them. Beca  _ missed  _ this. All of it; The bad jokes and the teasing and the supernatural run on sentences and the feeling of home. 

 

She  _ missed _ Chloe. 

 

* * *

 

They started off small. For the first couple weeks, it was just a small spattering of texting conversations here and there. Long enough for the shock of it to wear off and for Beca’s heart to stop lodging itself in her throat whenever she saw Chloe’s name flash on her screen. The messages were always meaningless. Always full of jokes and funny memes and small talk that didn’t annoy Beca nearly as much as it would have had it been  _ literally _ anyone else.  _ Always _ initiated by Chloe. 

When they finally  _ did _ talk on the phone again, it was Beca who made the first move, and it was entirely on accident. 

It had been nearly three months since the reunion and she was working on a side project on one of her days off. Since she was only an assistant producer at her work, she still wasn’t really getting to make her own music yet, so she generally was always working on something at home. (Just for sanity’s sake.) 

For the most part, she was usually able to record or create all her own samples, but that afternoon she was getting increasingly frustrated, because there was something just _not_ _right_ about her mix. _Vocals. It needed more vocals._ And not the high and clear kind that was the only way she really knew how to sing. She needed something more rough and soulful. Beca absently grabbed her phone, only half paying attention as she navigated through her contacts list and pressed send, her other hand flying over the controls of her mixing board as she continued to adjust and tweak the beat.

She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder while it rang, reaching up to grab her headphones from where they were hanging around her neck. She was in the process of slipping them up and over her head when the line finally picked up.

_ “Beca?” _

_ What the fuck? _ Beca’s hand slipped from her headphones, causing the tension of the band to snap shut and smack her in the face. Beca almost dropped her phone, scrambling for greater purchase so she could get a look at the screen before jamming it back up against her cheek. “Um. Hi! Hey!”

_ “Is everything ok?” _

“Yeah… Yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m… Hi!”

_ “Are you sure you’re ok? You sound a little-” _

“Me? Yeah! I’m grool- er. Crate.”  _ fuck  _ “I’m great!”  _ Seriously Beca?  _ “How are you?”

Beca shut her eyes and scrunched her face, tapping her forehead a little harder than she meant with her fist.  _ Grool? Crate?!  _ She kind of felt like she wanted to die. 

Chloe laughed.  _ “You didn’t mean to call me, did you?”  _

How did she  _ do _ that?! “What? No I-”

_ “Beca” _

Beca exhaled in a rush, and grimaced. “...Ok. Fine.  _ Maybe _ I thought I was calling CR.”

A flash of anxiety zipped up her spine as she realized here was a very good chance that Chloe may get offended or become upset. The idea was (quite frankly) horrifying,  _ “Oh! You working on something that needs her vocals? _ ” -and apparently entirely unwarranted. (Seriously though. How did she just  _ know _ these things?)

“I… yeah. Actually. I’m a little stuck on it.”

_ “Hmmm” _

Beca’s mind raced, looking for a way to salvage the incredibly awkward situation. “Do you… do you want to hear it?”

_ “That’s a monumentally stupid question Beca. Of  _ course _ I’d like to hear it.” _

“Right.” Ok yeah. That was a kind of a dumb question. To say Chloe had been obsessed with her music back in college would honestly be an understatement. “Um… OK. One sec.”

Beca tucked her phone back between her ear and shoulder and clicked through the controls until she was compressing the file and exporting it into her iTunes folder. “You still have your old email?”

_ “Sure” _

Beca snorted. “Really? Like… You haven’t made a new one yet?”

Chloe laughed.  _ “Why? What’s wrong with Acapitch89?” _

“You want a list?”

_ “Ooh! I just got it. K. Hold on one sec. I need to get my headphones.” _

“Right now? You don’t need to… You aren’t busy or anything?”

Chloe scoffed, the sound very clearly expressing annoyed indignation.  _ “Too busy to hear a Mitchell original mid mix? It’ll be a flat day on broadway before I’m too busy for this, Beca” _

“Oh. Well if you’re su-”

_ “Shhh. I’m listening” _

Beca rolled her eyes, bouncing her leg nervously from her cross-legged spot on her bed, chewing anxiously on the corner of her thumb. 

(She could hear Chloe’s breathing; hear the way her breath occasionally caught in her throat and exhaled in a rush; Hear all the things that had made Chloe her single favorite person to share her work with back in college. She  _ got _ music. She got it on the same level Beca got it. She  _ appreciated _ it and  _ respected _ it and always seemed to  _ understand _ whatever it was Beca was trying to say.) 

It was the full 3 minutes and 16 seconds before Chloe exhaled, a little louder than before, and the sound quality of the call shifted as she unplugged her headphones.  _ “Beca…”  _

Chloe’s voice was too soft; too  _ reverent _ , and nerves exploded in Beca’s stomach.

“It’s still a little rough, and it definitely ne-” _ “Beca.”  _ “-eeds those vocals, but I’m pretty sure that once I add in some-”

_ “Beca!” _

“...Yeah?”

_ “You are insanely talented. You know that, right?” _

_ Why _ was she blushing?! “Dude… it’s-”

_ “But yes. I can see what you mean. It’s missing something.” _

Beca breathed a sigh of relief, extremely grateful to be back on more comfortable ground. Beca knew her music was good. People told her her music was good all the time. But hearing it from Chloe had always made her feel a little nervous and weird about it because the praise always seemed to hit a little harder and closer to home. Beca really didn’t know if she was annoyed or grateful that so little had clearly changed over the past year and a half. 

“Right? I’m thinking I wanna see if CR will sing some runs for me to replace the piano lick at the top.”

_ “Hmm. Yeah. You could also maybe try pulling back on the mids a little as it ramps up so everything’s a bit more transparent before you drop into the chorus” _

“That’s…” Beca frowned as she thought about it. “actually a really good idea. I’ll have to try that.”

(That was another thing she always loved about showing Chloe her stuff. She always had really good suggestions and ideas. Most people would just blabber about how good it sounded. Chloe was the only one who seemed to understand that she valued constructive criticism above blanket praise.)

_ “You’ll let me hear it again once it’s finished?” _

“Yeah. I’ll send it over.”

_ “K. Good. But I actually have to go now. There are a couple people waiting in the reception area, and my boss is starting to give me dirty looks.” _

Beca frowned. “You’re at work right now?!”

Just then, Beca heard the sound of a disapproving and exasperated voice in the background. Chloe must have pulled the phone away from her mouth and covered it, because the “I’m coming” she yelled out sounded muffled and far away. 

_ “Yeah. It’s normally not a problem, but we just got a random rush.” _

“Dude I can’t believe you answered the phone while you were at work.”

The voice in the background filtered through the speakers again and Beca winced.  _ “Ok. I really gotta go Becs. I’ll call you when I get off, K? Bye!” _

“OkBye” Beca tried to rush out, but the phone had already gone dead. 

Beca slowly lowered her phone from her ear and took a deep breath. Well  _ that _ had been unexpected. The usual doubts and anxiety tried to take hold, but Beca was a little distracted, pulling her headphones back over her ears and pressing play on the mix, and  _ yep _ . She could hear exactly what Chloe had been talking about. She spared a glance at her phone. She really did still want those vocals in there and needed to call CR sooner rather than later but… Well... She wanted to try this first. Chloe’s suggestions had never steered her wrong before.    
  


Chloe did call her back. At almost exactly 7:30 PM, Beca’s phone buzzed and since she knew it was coming, she was mostly prepared. (They had been texting so regularly by this point that Beca was actually pretty proud of herself for the way her heart only raced a little; her stomach only fluttered a  _ little _ when she saw Chloe’s name pop up on her caller ID.)

“Hey.”

_ “Hi! I’m sorry I had to get off the phone so quickly.” _

“No it’s ok.” Beca closed her laptop and set it to the side, laying back in her bed and rolled on her side. “Did you get in trouble?”

_ “Nah. Everyone at the clinic knows about the situation, so they were cool about it. It was mostly just bad timing.” _

Beca‘s body went still, a tendril of unease trying to sneak around her defenses and cloud her mind. “The situation?”

_ “Oh! Yeah.”  _ Chloe replied brightly. “ _ Like… about us?” _

Beca’s heart hiccuped a little in her chest, valiantly fighting to keep her mind from thinking back to the  _ thing-that-shall-not-be-mentioned _ . “What did you tell them?”

_ “Just that I had a best friend in college and we lost touch but we’re in the process of reconnecting.” _

Beca felt her bravado slip a little further, her stomach clenching in a sudden rush of anxiety. “Oh.” 

_ “Is that… I mean they don’t… Is that weird?” _

“No. I just…” It became immediately apparent that she had definitely overreacted and Beca felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. “You know what? Never mind. How was your shift?”

There was a rustling sound on the other line, and Beca heard the distinct sound of a car door opening and shutting, the ambient noise abruptly cutting out.  _ “It was fine. We had a family come in with 3 dogs that got hit by a skunk. Exciting stuff.” _

“Well that’s disgusting.”

_ “Nuther day, nuther dolla.” _ Chloe sung. Beca laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating completely.  _ “So how’s the mix coming along?” _

Beca smiled and tucked herself a little further into her bed. “It’s good actually. I tried your suggestion and it definitely helped. It’s still a work in progress though. I ended up calling CR, and we're gunna meet up next week so she can record what I need.”

_ “Well I look forward to hearing it when you’re done. I really miss getting to hear your stuff.” _

Beca smirked, thinking about Chloe’s earlier eagerness. “I could tell.”

_ “Oh shush. You know I’m a sucker for your killer beats.” _

“Don’t be a dweeb”, Beca laughed out. 

_ “Whatever Beca. You know I’ll always be your number one fan.”  _

“You’re making it weird. Don’t make it weird.”

Chloe laughed.  _ “So how are you? Really?” _

 

It ended up being far easier than Beca had expected. Their conversation was light and easy and it was clear that Chloe hadn’t lost whatever gift it was she possessed that was able to ferret Beca out of her awkward and uncomfortable antisocial shell, because before she knew it, she was curling into her side as she laughed, her computer and headphones long forgotten on the bed beside her. In and of itself, it really shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. While Beca generally  _ hated _ talking on the phone with a pretty devout passion, Chloe had always been her exception.

  
  


So… Life went on. The regular texts from Chloe gradually evolved into semi-regular phone calls, and eventually Beca finally pushed past her own awkwardness and discomfort and started to reach out as well. 

(She may or may not have worked herself nearly into an anxiety attack the first time she -intentionally- called.) 

(No one was around and had to know.)

Jesse caught her on the phone with Chloe a couple times, and she would just roll her eyes at the knowing smile and twinkle in his eyes whenever he walked in on her laughing or smiling or whatever other physical representation he witnessed of her generally good mood. They didn’t hang out though. It wasn’t something it felt like either of them were necessarily actively avoiding. It just wasn’t a subject either of them felt particularly rushed to broach. Chloe was taking the ‘do-over’ thing very seriously, and every little milestone they reached together was handled with the utmost care and deliberation.

All in all, Beca was happy. Really  _ truly _ happy. She felt like she actually had it all. She had a great job, and a great boyfriend who was also her best friend, and Chloe, who was kind of her best friend, but also infinitely more, though she had no idea how to really explain what the hell that really _ meant _ . But it was good. 

She should have known that it wasn’t going to last. 

 

* * *

 

Beca was just leaving work when her phone rang, a number popping up on the screen she definitely didn’t recognize. After a quick panic attack and mental scan of the status of her bank account or any possible bill she may have missed, she frowned in confusion, opening her car door and dropping her bag inside as she answered.

“Hello?”

_ “Hello, I’m looking for Beca Mitchell?” _

Beca frowned and took another look at her phone. Nope. She still had no idea what number that was. “You got her.”

_ “Hello. This is Jane Crawford from CSP Music. How are you doing today?” _

CSP Music. Did she work with them at some point? The name wasn’t ringing any bells. “I’m good. Thanks?”

_ “Great. I know this is a little unorthodox, but we actually became aware of you and your work through one of our mutual associates and we were wondering if you would be interested in coming in sometime to discuss a career opportunity.” _

“I… I’m sorry. Are you sure you have the right number?”

_ “Beca J. Mitchell? Barden University alumnus and currently employed at Residual Heat?” _

“Um. Yeah. Yes. Thats me. I’m-” What was  _ happening?! _ “I’m sorry. And you want to what now?”

_ “... To discuss a career opportunity with- I’m sorry. Is this not a good time?” _

“No! No that’s not-”  _ Can she just be a fucking person? Just this once?  _ “I’m really sorry. You just caught me off guard. So you want to-” Beca coughed around her suddenly dry throat. “To meet up?”

_ “Yes. Now we understand that you probably feel a sense of loyalty and obligation to your current employer, but I think you may be very interested in what we have to say.” _

Bea closed her eyes, her thoughts racing far too fast for her to catch onto even the tail end of a single one as they flew through her brain. “Actually, can I… Can I have a little time to think about this?”

_ “Of course! Just give me a call whenever you have a time and date that works for you.” _

“It would just be a meeting, right?”

_ “Just a meeting. Do you need me to give you my number? It’s the same one that I used to call.” _

“No. I…”  _ Dude. Get your shit together. _ “I have it.”

_ “Excellent! Well we here at CSP very much hope to hear from you again soon.” _

“Yeah. Ok. I-“  _ For real though. She’s going to think you’re an idiot. _ “I will get back to you as soon as I can.” 

_ “Great! Well it was wonderful talking to you, Ms. Mitchell. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” _

“Thank you. I… Yeah. Thanks.”

_ “Bye bye now.” _

Beca didn’t even bother saying goodbye; just looked down at her phone in numb confusion. 

 

_ What the fuck? _

 

Before Beca could really process what she was doing, she had the phone jammed back against her ear, anxiously jangling her keyes.

_ “Hey! I was just thinking about-” _

“Something happened.”

_ “Oh. Shit. Um… Was it something with Jesse? Are you ok?” _

“I just got a call.”

_ “Ok…” _ Beca was too busy taking deep gulps of air to elaborate and braced a stiff arm against the roof of her car.  _ “...From who?” _

“Another record company. They want to meet.”

_ “Ok?” _ It was a full three seconds before Chloe managed to grasp the gravity of the situation.  _ “OH! Oh shit!” _

“Right?!” Beca yelled. (Why was she yelling?)

_ “Well what did they say?” _

“Just that.” Beca bounced anxiously on her feet, swallowing past the lump in her throat.  _ Water. She needed water _ . “They want to meet me? Said they want to discuss a ‘career opportunity’. I don’t… How did they even-”

_ “Beca. Relax.” _

“Chloe, I’m freaking the fuck out!”

_ “I know, but hey. Breathe. This is a good thing.” _

Beca reached up and threaded her fingers through her hair along the top of her head, squeezing her fist until her scalp stung. “But… What do they want?”

_ “Sounds like they want to discuss a career opportunity with-” _

“No dude like, what does that even  _ mean _ ?”

“ _ Well… if I had to guess, they probably want to offer you a job.” _

Beca blinked. She was honestly starting to feel a little dizzy. “But I have a job.”

_ “Maybe they want to offer you a  _ better _ job.” _

“Cho…” Beca squeezed her eyes tight and pulled her hand out of her hair to drag it down her face. “This is....”

_ “ _ Breathe _ , Ok? All they want to do is talk.” _

She  _ was _ breathing. Beca could  _ hear _ herself breathing. And it was definitely much faster than her current stationary position warranted.  _ A job? They want to offer her a job? What about her current job? And a job doing what?  _

_ “Have you ever heard of them before?” _

Beca scrunched her face in thought, forcing her mind to slow down and think about the question, bracing her hand against her hip and locking her legs as they wobbled precariously under her. CSP. No. Nothing. She had definitely never heard of them. “Um. No? I don’t think?”

_ “So maybe do some research. Find out more about who they are and if this is even something you want to look into.” _

“But they want to-”

_ “It doesn’t matter what they want. This is  _ your _ life and  _ your _ career. Just look into it. Find out who they are. Maybe they’re a crack label and not worth your time and talent. Maybe this will end up being a really great opportunity, and you can think about whatever they throw at you after you know more. But you don’t have to DO anything right now. This is a  _ good thing _ , Beca. A good thing” _

“But I-”

_ “It’s going to be ok Becs. Everything is ok. This is a  _ Good _. _ Thing _.” _

Beca closed her eyes and tried to let Chloe’s words sink into her chest and work their magic on her racing heart. _This is a good thing. It’s going to be ok and this is a good thing. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. She didn’t have to rush into anything. Everything is fine and this is a_ GOOD THING _._ The roar in her ears started to die down, and her pulsed slowed. The edges of her vision that had started to go a little fuzzy cleared up and suddenly she felt as though she could actually maybe breathe again. “Yeah… Yeah ok. You’re right.”

_ “Of course I’m right.” _

Beca rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Her heart was still racing, and her hands were still a little shaky, but as she continued to calm down, she started to feel a little ridiculous. “Ok. I… Thanks. I was… I was kinda losing my shit there for a second”

_ “I could tell.”  _ Chloe said with a gentle laugh. “ _ Everything is going to be ok though.” _

“Yeah. Ok yeah. Everything is ok. This is a good thing.”

_ “This is a good thing. Do you feel better?” _

“I…” Beca took one more deep breath. “Yeah. Ok. Yeah I’m better”

They both launched into a silence, Beca’s thoughts still racing a little too fast for her to really catch up, but she was getting there. She got a call. Another record label called. Called  _ her _ . Sought  _ her  _ out.  _ Her.  _ Beca J. Mitchell. Other companies knew her  _ name _ and her  _ work _ and were reaching out to  _ her _ . 

Chloe was the one to break the silence, and it sounded as though she had been holding her breath because the words came out in a tumbled rush, her tone high and repressed and choked as though barely holding on to her excitement.  _ “Holy Shit Becs!” _

“Right?!” Beca barked, the word exploding out of her in a rush, too giddy and amped to do anything but yell. 

_ “Beca! I’m  _ so _ proud of you. This is… This is amazing! You’re amazing!” _

“Dude. I’m still… I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”

Chloe laughed, her excitement making it sound almost unnaturally bright and immediately brought a smile to Beca’s lips.  _ “I’m not. I’m just one day closer to when I get to use you as a name drop.” _

“Oh my god Chlo. That’s-”

_ “No really! It’s going to be awesome. I’m gunna  _ Kill  _ it during those icebreaker things; where you have to go around and say something interesting about yourself? I’ll be like ‘Hello. My name is Chloe Beale, and my best friend is  _ THE  _ Beca Mitchell’.” _

Beca groaned, wiping a hand down her face as she choked out another helplessly giddy laugh. Chloe was being totally ridiculous, but  _ Fuck! _ Another record label reached out and called her and she’s pretty sure they want to offer her a job, and she already has a job, but this might be a  _ better _ job, and a better job meant-

The sound of a car honking made her jump and she whipped her head up, meeting the impatient glare of an angry driver through his windshield, his arm raised in exasperation as he gestured, clearly asking whether she actually had any plans on leaving anytime soon so he could have her parking spot. 

“Shit. Ok. Well I gotta go. I’ve been standing outside my car for like 20 minutes now, and people are starting to give me weird looks.”

_ “Okok. You’ll keep me updated on all this, right? _ ”

“Yes.”

_ “And you’ll look more into everything and let me know what you find out?” _

Beca glared when the driver honked again, clenching her fist against the urge to flip him off. “I will.”

_ “Thank you for sharing this with me Beca. This really is super exciting.” _

“Yeah. I… You’re welcome.”

_ “K. I’ll talk to you later”. _

“Thank you.” Beca rushed out. “For...”

For a second, she thought she was too late, and Chloe had already hung up. But then she heard Chloe sigh and could feel her smile filtering through the line and was totally helpless against the way her face stretched and pulled, her own smile so wide it almost hurt. 

_ “Any time Becs.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were a couple really subtle things I was hoping to convey in this chapter, and I'm really hoping I got everything across. Let me know what you think in the comments. I love feedback, and it always helps keep the inspiration going strong. Thanks for sticking to this so far =)


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